Loveshock 3 A play of time
by Trin-Zik
Summary: The final edition to Loveshock. Their final adventure and greatest challenge. Rated M.
1. Chapter 1 - Reunion of memories

**Disclaimer and facts to know:**

First things first: warnings and disclaimer!

I do not own Bioshock and its series. It belongs to 2K.

This is Booker/Beth romance, a continuation of Loveshock 1 and 2. As a warning this contains incest. Please do not proceed if that is unacceptable to you.

Rated T for now.

* * *

**Forward:**

Hello everyone. To those who read my first two releases, I present to you the long overdue Loveshock 3 A play of time. I will continue where Loveshock 2 ended. I understand that it's been five years. A lot has happened in my period of absence. I apologize. Life takes priority as I'm sure all of you would understand. My time was dedicated to my family and my career. In doing such, there was little to no time left to be creative. If you have lost interest in Loveshock, that's okay. Thank you for reading and enjoying my work. You've made Loveshock 3 happen. If you want to read but don't remember what happened, I recommend that you re-read the series. I myself have totally forgotten so I took the liberty to refresh on what my heart poured out on paper five years go. Those those new to the series. Welcome. If you haven't read the first two entries, please do. You'll be lost if you don't.

I'm not sure how long I plan this final entry to be but I do know this - There will no longer be 7000+ words in a chapter. They will be shorter thus making it easier to manage time since we don't get digital bookmarks. I am known to write stories that move the heart. I plan to do so again. Except this time around, expect things to be dark. Thank you again and enjoy.

As always, a review is greatly appreciated.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**Reunion of memories**

Rapture – The sight she did not intend to see, the place she did not wish to be.

Empty and cold, void of love and warmth, drowning beneath hundreds of meters of darkness; The very representation of her previous life, a time before true happiness. Memories without Booker and memories of hatred. A life of perpetual sadness and hopelessness only to be replaced by deep depression.

The once bustling Rapture, now a broken city of the dead.

In a rundown fancy hotel room, there stood Elizabeth. Lights flickered as she stared out into the sea, the sea of memories. The groaning of the structural support was all but too familiar. One can never get used to that sound. A constant reminder of where one is. In her particular case, a reminder of a certain unwanted memory. _Comstock, Andrew Ryan, Cohen. _She remembered it all, how she murdered her enemy, and how she found it all so futile in the end. Her sins, her sad past, the horror and pain she endured. Her past was sick and twisted, just like Rapture. She was seeking absolution, a new life with her lover. But not all things can so easily be forgotten. Not all sins can be washed way.

Furniture was spread about. A chair laid down, a table flipped over, she was surrounded by the aftermath of Rapture's uprising. Seawater dripped from the ceiling above consistently with each second that passed.

With her head resting on the structural glass panel, she sighed. _It never ends…_ She muttered under breath as she took in the splendid view of Rapture. _Us Dewitts… Are we cursed to be miserable?_ _I hate this place. So dark and damp. I will find you again Booker, just like I did before. _

..

After brooding in her thoughts over their lives, slowly, Elizabeth straightened her posture and began dusting herself off. Her hair was undone and her clothes were tattered, torn, and worse for wear. Her beautiful white dress now unevenly shredded beneath her knees, was a just a hindrance. She leaned over and took a handful of cloth at knee length and with two forceful yanks, she ripped the remainder off. Elizabeth picked up Booker's red ascot from the carpet and tied the ends of her long hair together. It was long, longer than when they first met – down to her lower back. It was a good memory for her and it also made her feel more feminine. Booker definitely loved it. So did she.

She approached a mirror that was close by to examine herself. "I've seen better days," she muttered as she inspected her appearance. With her makeup ruined, she began to have second thoughts of leaving it on. _Father thinks I look exactly like mother. Maybe it's because of the cosmetics I use._ Her right hand found its way to the faucet and with a small twist, fresh water poured from the spout. _Water still works._ She thoughtas she inspected her eye.

Moments later with both hands she cupped the cool water and splashed it on her face. With some soft rubbing she began to wash away the image of Elizabeth from Rapture – Cohen's songbird. It was almost an alter ego of hers, one that she does not need now that she has a new life. That visage portrayed a seductive vixen not to be trifled with. Although useful in the past it is no longer needed. Finally clean of most of the artificial beauty, her innocent and beautiful face was once again revealed. The face of one that was rescued from the clutches of Songbird. It was those lovely blue eyes that caught Booker's attention. Those soft pink lips that made his heart race. _Elizabeth Comstock of Columbia, _she jokingly thought. _No, Anna Dewitt of Paris. Booker likes me like this better anyways. _She was satisfied with her image and grinned. Memories of their adventures in Columbia filled her mind with happiness but fleeting happiness. The metallic groan of the support beams brought her back to reality as she remembered her new goal – Find Booker and end the cycle. She felt sadness creep back in but in light of her new relationship, she began to form a sense of confidence. Elizabeth was determined to win this final war.

With positivity renewed and Booker's pistol wielded, she headed passed the broken door and toward the ransacked corridor. _I don't recognize this place. I wonder where I am,_ she thought to herself as she carefully took each step. The sloshing of the wet carpet beneath her amplified her presence, drawing attention to all whom were potentially near. _Okay, if the elevator doesn't work than I have to take the stairs. I need to get to the lobby to figure out where I am. Then, look for a way out of here._ She approached the elevator and attempted to call it. With the press of a button, she stood and waited. There was no signs of it being mechanically sound and no hint of it functioning. _Okay, it looks like I have take the stairs afterall._ As soon as she turned away, a loud unsettling noise came from below. It caught her attention. _Is that...?_ The strange sound grew louder as did a mechanical noise. It sounded like the elevator worked however, whether it had passengers was a mystery she would soon find out. As it almost reached her floor the odd sound emanating from it became freighting and distinctive. _Whatever is in there is definitely not a splicer. I don't think I have enough resources to fight whatever that is… _Suddenly an ear deafening roar came a floor below.

Elizabeth gasped as fear quickly entered her spirit. A feeling she had not felt for ages. The elevator was drawing near and she had only seconds to decide. Fortunately, she decided to run. She did not know where the emergency exit was but she needed to find it fast. Her life depended on it. She bolted out of sight rather quickly and found herself in the same corridor from where she came. To the right was opposite direction and not the answer as that would lead to the room where she once was. Her only option was to continue down the path. Without any other alternatives she ran as quickly as her feet could take her. It was a horrible mess as broken vases, tables, and pictures littered the floor. Further down the cramped hallway was an excessive amount of water pouring down form the celling covering her path. The floor was flooded with seawater from the leak. Elizabeth raised her hands to shield herself from the water as she approached. A classic 'ding' could be heard from the distance and loud metallic shrieks echoed the halls as if someone or something was ripping the doors apart. At that moment she knew she had only seconds left. She reared her head only to find a hideous creature massive in size charging toward her stomping the floor as it went. It resembled that of a bear and alligator. It bared numerous misaligned fangs and was armed with razorlike claws. It was not a natural creature of land nor sea but rather, a mutated and grotesque abomination. Muscle tissue was visible as well as strange vein-like tubings coming from its body. It was fiercely chasing her scent. Months have passed since it fed. Ravenous, it began to close the gap between them.

"Oh my god! What is that?!" She screamed as she ran. Not looking back Elizabeth broke through the water but was rudely greeted by a large armoire that had fallen over and blocked the way. She let out a grunt of pain when her body smashed into it. "Oh no! Please!"She pleaded as she frantically searched for a way past the debris. The horrendous creature bellowed in excitement as it finally found its next meal. Like a predator ready to devour a prey it lowered its jaw preparing to shred Elizabeth apart. In a vain attempt to crawl pass she instinctively bent down only to find her passage blocked contents of the wardrobe. Desperate and scared, a whimper escaped her mouth. "No, no!" Her only option was to climb and she did so without hesitation. As the monstrous beast drew near she could not fight the urge but screamed in terror. Luckily, with all of her strength she managed her panic and climbed up and tried to roll over the back of the armoire. The moment she rolled a massive gaping mouth filled with sharp fangs was an arm's reach away. Like the entrance of hell it beckoned her death. A harrowing roar emanated from its throat and her life flashed before her eyes. A vision of never seeing Booker again, a vision of dying with her child.

She screamed and frantically rolled as the powerful jaws of death slammed down shredding the wooden furniture and sending shards in all directions. _Father! Help me! _Her mind raced with thoughts. Elizabeth rolled off the remains of the wardrobe and jetted to the only door that she saw.

Unexpectedly, the floor began to rumble, the ceiling began to shake, and the walls cracked. Her only exit started to fluctuate between different dimensions. She let out a scream as she almost lost her balance. Her feet involuntarily took her to the door. To engage an object in quantum flux was extremely dangerous and likened to that of suicide. On the other hand so was facing the creature with a pistol. Without thinking twice she jutted open the door and flew through it, immediately slamming close the gate to hell.

The warping suddenly stopped. It was silent and the door did not budge. Her panting was audible. Her blood full of adrenaline. A huge sigh of relief escaped her mouth when she realized that she was taken to another place far from the beast. _It's gone. _She was fortunate that it happened. This time, quantum physics saved her.

As the panic subsided she slowly turned around only to find herself in an unfamiliar room yet in a familiar place. "Where am I?"She asked as she walked to a window nearby. Elizabeth peered through the window and saw adjacent buildings with architectural designs not of rapture. They were structures from the Columbia. Hotels, shops, and a even a factory was all in view.

Her spirits lifted when her eyes took in her old aquatinted city. "Columbia," She said with a smile. "He was right. It's all fallen to the ground," she deducted. "He must be near. I've got to look for him." She quickly turned to scan for a way out. Strangely enough the decorations and furniture was not from Columbia's time. Everything was neat and organized. _This must be a bedroom of some sort, _shewondered. There was an oddly familiar shaped jacket draping over the classically designed wooden bed frame. It drew her curiosity enough for her to approach it. The moment she picked it up a strong fragrance that she knew all too well invaded her nostrils. A flood of emotions washed over her. _Booker?!_ She furrowed her brows in confusion and looked to the bed. There laid a violet nightgown, neat and pretty. She slowly laid down the jacket and drifted her fingers across the silk garment. "I never bought this…" She whispered. _Who does this belong too?_ Her inquisitive spirit led her to pry around now that her curiosity piqued. An unexpected crack tickled her ear as she stepped. There was a picture on the floor, out of place. Broken glass laid everywhere and its frame split into two pieces. _Hm?_ She bent down and removed the picture from the frame to get a clearer image.

..

She quietly drew her breath in surprise. It was an old picture taken from years ago. A man standing next to a little girl and a woman. "Father?" She whispered as she ran her fingers across his image. She couldn't help but smile. He was bit younger looking and handsome even then. Standing next to him was a little girl, about the age of 10. "And this must be me," said Elizabeth. Her smile came as quickly as it left when she noticed the woman be their side. "Mother…" she uttered with sadness and contempt. _So this must be us, a happy family from a different universe. I look so much like you._ _Does he love me only because of that? _She thought as she looked at her mother with discontentment. _You left him all alone, how could you? It doesn't matter now mother. I took your place. I'm his._ Immediately, she ripped a portion of the picture apart. With no remorse, she dropped the piece to the floor. Annabelle Dewitt now rested on the wooden floor along with the broken glass. Elizabeth grinned. "Much better. The way it's supposed to be," she said as she slid the photo into the belt of her dress. _This must have been their bedroom,_ she thought as she searched around.

She looked to her far right and noticed another door. "If I know my science that's either a closet or a way out," she excitedly stated. The ground began to vibrate. The subtle rumble was indicative of another pending quantum flux. With renewed hope she swiftly made her way there.

She hastily grabbed the doorknob and with the flick of the wrist, the door opened…

..

.


	2. Chapter 2 - What is and shouldn't be

**Chapter 2**

**What is and shouldn't be**

The violent sounds of waves crashing against a rocky shore filled Elizabeth's ear expectantly. Seconds after she pushed opened the door, a torrent of strong winds shoved her against it. Taken by surprise, Elizabeth attempted to shield herself from the elements in futility. She struggled to retain her balance as she tried to close the door. The dousing rain quickly drenched her dress. Darkness blanketed the skies and the howl of the winds were unwelcoming. Her eyes could only reveal to her a vast ocean as black as the void. Hey eyes searched for something familiar, something to hint as to her location. Fortunately, even with poor visibility she was able to identify something familiar down below. _Is that…? A pier? Wait, I recognize this. The tower to Columbia?!_ Gathering her thoughts and making sense of things became unbearably difficult. She could put up with the cold rain no longer and swung opened the tower doors behind her. Again, she found herself outside at the base of a different tower. She was in a different place yet again, a place of wondrous colors. The gorgeous view was captivating to say the least.

Elizabeth was awestruck. Even her soaking wet garments could not get her attention. Caught in a trance of what her eyes beheld, she withdrew a deep breath and attempted to understand what she was seeing. There she stood, high on a grassy cliff surrounded by a blue ocean looking up toward an even loftier mountain not too far away. Multiple large and small hovering islands graced what appeared to be a city at the top. Rivers of clear water poured freely from those islands, creating a sparkling mist that covered her view. The brilliant sun in the distant horizon had begun its final descent pulling and transforming the blue sky into deep and wonderful warm shades. Like a masterfully painted art, she could not believe her eyes. "W-Where am I?" Elizabeth could hardly form words. She stuttered as she tried to speak through her astonishment. A gentle gust of wind brushed her long dark hair as it slowly glided past her, loosening Booker's tied ascot. She gasped as the feeling of her hair flowing freely in the wind snapped her out of her daze. She quickly tried to catch the red cloth as it floated away in the wind. However, her fingers met her empty palm as she was unsuccessful in retrieving her lover's ascot. "No!" She whimpered as she watched the one thing that kept her sane throughout her lonely years float away. As it danced toward the distance she slowly laid her hand on her heart and pursed her lips.

…

"Troubled?" A mysterious person asked.

An unexpected voice took her by surprise. She swiftly turned to see who it was. "Rosalind?!" Elizabeth said with gladness.

"Chin up dear. You'll meet him again soon enough," Rosalind uttered with a tone of indifference as she walked toward the edge, her eyes gazing at the mountain and all of its splendor. She reached for the tower key in her pocket and pulled it out, observing it. "I never did like his dreadful idea," she uttered as she tossed it down to the open ocean hundreds of meters below.

"It was an experiment that will failed and has failed. In knowing this, we still undertook it. Funny."

"W-What are you talking about? I don't understand. Who is Evelyn? Is she really you? She claimed to be you."

"Yes, from another universe," She said as she turned to Elizabeth. "It _is_ unfortunate isn't it? I once said the universe does not like its peas mixed with its porridge. It appears I was right."

"I'm listening," said Elizabeth.

"She does not _act_ like a Lutece as far as morals and intention are concerned. Furthermore, I'm willing to state the obvious for the sake of comprehension – she does not _look _like a Lutece. The girl is lacking brains as well. She seems to have forgotten a couple important details."

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked.

"Do you remember what we've said to you before? In the river before the collapse?"

"We?"

"Robert and I."

"Of course. Constants and variables. That my baby will live; It's a constant," Elizabeth said. "I know that bringing me from rapture to here, was you're doing. But why are you helping me? Why did you help me before?"

"That was and is Roberts idea. He doesn't like unfinished business. You do realize that we still see them all. Your survival is a constant that we know. Your father's, however – is not."

Elizabeth became silent after hearing Rosalind's answer. The uncertainty of the future worried her. Rosalind was ambiguous as ever, injecting only worry into Elizabeth. "This is becoming rather awkward. Elizabeth my dear, I believe I owe you an apology. I'm certain after today's events, you must quite exhausted,"

She folded her arms and stood in silence. Her eyes heavy and her head full of thoughts.

"It's Anna…" she muttered as she slowly turned her gaze to the horizon. For what seemed like an eternity, only the peaceful sound of the wind, chirping of the seagulls, and the soft waves filled the air between them. Elizabeth squinted at the distance, thinking about everything that happened. Rosalind released a deep breath and her lips began to utter words but were unsuccessful as Elizabeth interceded.

"Is he okay?" she asked. Her glassy eyes could not lie. Worry was written all over the deep blue of her irises. Holding back the tears, she muttered, "I don't understand."

Silence once again took rein over them. Rosalind couldn't answer that question, not at the moment at least. For a split second, she wanted to console her, to hug her, but it was out of character for her.

"My poor little girl. You've been through so much haven't you," Rosalind said, with sympathy behind her voice.

Elizabeth softly replied, "You don't know the half of it." The gentle wind blew her long hair upward, kissing her cheeks with strands of dark brown. She attempted to tie her hair into a bun, working against the wind. The splendid scenery, cool open air, and beautiful colors slowly dancing in the sky have brought about a sense of calmness despite it all.

"I believe I do," Rosalind confidently replied. "And perhaps it is best that you leave your hair untied. I suppose the universe is telling us it wants it that way."

Empty of words, Elizabeth glanced at Rosalind and gave in to her suggestion, released her hair, and peered again into the now violet laden orange sky. She was unusually short for words. Everything that happened in Paris, loosing Booker, Rapture… It was all too much for her heart. She was tired and it was beginning to surface.

She stood in stillness as she basked in the sun's final light. It was her first sunset without Booker since she had found him. Rosalind managed a smile as she saw how much Elizabeth had matured. Now peering unto the same sunset, she muttered, "You're very much like your father. It's quite fascinating, really."

She hesitated for a moment but felt that Elizabeth deserved all that she could get, after enduring everything she did. With a slight wave of her arm, a small tear bursted open beside her. Elizabeth looked over in surprise and saw what Rosalind had just done. The tear opened a window to room. It was a tall figure that Elizabeth knew all too well. There Booker was standing in a neatly decorated living space. His back was facing the tear, unaware of that she could see him. "Father?" She exclaimed in relief. Overtaken by her heart she reached out her hand and began walking toward him.

"That's quite far enough. You know well the risks. The child in your womb would find inter-dimensional travel disagreeable," Rosalind state sternly as she closed the tear.

"Things will improve, my dear. I can see why he's fallen for you. It's quite obvious actually." Rosalind chuckled as she walked toward the tower. Elizabeth smiled and closed her eyes, thinking of him. Seeing him alive was enough to lift her spirits. Rosalind pulled open the door and stood, inviting the brooding girl to follow.

"Come darling. Everything will be explained in due time. Care for a visit to Elysium?"

Elizabeth stood for a little while longer. After a deep breath, she proceeded to walk to the tower door. Rosalind closed the large wooded door behind Elizabeth with a loud thump. Rosalind slowly made her way back to the edge and stood still, as calm as the mountain. She held her fingertips together and started to contemplate their plan. It was a habit of hers from childhood. A gust of wind blew from behind her. Instantly she felt her brother's presence. Unmoved by his entrance, she stared at the Elysium in silence.

"And how did it go?" Rosalind asked.

"Quite alright. I've helped him as much as I could. He will find his way here momentarily," Robert replied.

"Poor girl. She's on the brink. Any more trauma and I perceive she will…"

"Break," stated Robert.

"She's changing."

"And not for the better."

"It was our doing, from the very beginning with Comstock. It's all on us, isn't brother."

"Do you now see why I had us do what we must?"

"It's a shame we can't assume a more _active_ role."

"Hmm, yes. Being dead does have its disadvantages."

…

It has been one strange journey. Booker cannot seem to rest, catch a break from the series of unfortunate events. Like a looming plague that cursed him and Elizabeth for the rest of their days; Misery loves company. And misery is no stranger to the Dewitts. Elizabeth, permanently injured during infancy, lived an isolated life as a lab specimen, only to finally discover the harsh realities of life all too soon. Having killed and seen death, she was no longer the innocent enthusiastic girl he met. He himself was no saint either, gambling, murder. He was either the scam artist or the alcoholic, prone to violence. Though their pasts are far and gone, not all sins can be forgiven. As with all unjust deeds, it leaves the residual essence of itself behind, changing a person to whom they should never be.

..

There was something particularly strange about where he was. It was just five minutes ago when he was in what remains of Emporia Marketplace. He had found himself at the entrance to a certain hotel where Elizabeth gave her all to him on that one distinct night. Strangely when he opened the door to the room they shared, it was not what he remembered.

Booker slowly walked around the beautifully decorated room. Everything seemed to be in its rightful place. There was nothing out of order except the room itself, being out of order in time. It is where it shouldn't be – Columbia. A sweet fragrance in the air floated pass him as he managed a whiff of its feminine scent. Memories of days gone by returned to him. Images of his days, his life before there was anything beautiful. _It's been a while since I smelled something like that. So this house belongs to a woman… Or at least this living room does._ A certain golden photo frame had caught his attention from not far off. A table with flowers and photographs as a centerpiece. _If we ever return to old lives, I'll be sure to tell Anna about this set up. She'd love this._ He had made his way to the table and picked up the photo. He would soon regret it as it reminded him of a time not his, and a life that will never exist. He will never experience what he saw in front of him.

Booker Dewitt, Anna Dewitt, and Annabelle Dewitt sitting at a park smiling at the camera.

"What the…" he whispered, taking in the unbelievable. The sound of something familiar caught his attention as he turned to see what it was - nothing. He looked around looking for the origin of the noise. There was nothing but the air particles floating about. He had not noticed before but in looking for the noise he realized there were other pictures put in place, a couple on the wall, and one near a door. They were all pictures of a different life. A life when his wife did not die in childbirth. _Is this some sick joke?_ He thought as he curiously looked around, he began to lose track of his goal and immersed himself in what could not be. He found himself gazing at a photo of his family on the wall. "That's us. Me. A-Annabelle?" he muttered. "B-But I lost you… All those years ago." A sigh of pain escaped him as he closed his eyes remembering her passing. Upon looking at the picture again he noticed Elizabeth, happy. "A happy family. _My _happy family. What could have been. Anna, you're alive and… normal."

Booker unlatched the picture frame from the wall and removed the photo inside. _A life where you ain't a killer. A life where you and me, we see each other as..._ Booker was in mid thought before the room started to shake violently, snapping him out of his train of thought. Dust fell from the ceiling and the furniture began to move about. Instinctively, he pocketed the picture and ran to the door and kicked it open and instantly to his surprise:

A gorgeous sun setting over a mountaintop.

…

It was surprise after surprise. His feet had found a grassy bed. His nostrils taking in the high-altitude air of the troposphere, and his eyes absorbing the wonderful view. It was paradise. He couldn't believe where he was but that was not the end of surprises for him.

"You two again?" He shouted, dead in his tracks. "The hell?!"

...


	3. Chapter 3 - Reunion of hearts

**Chapter 3**

**Reunion of hearts**

Stiff as statues and as firm as one void of humor the Luteces stood at the edge that peered down to the wild ocean. Their eyes locked on Booker who irrationally kicked open the door. Not a hint of emotion seeped from the stone hard composure. Rock solid in their disposition, they greeted the brash man with an indifferent tone.

"The door is not locked, you know," Rosalind spoke.

"How did…?" Booker uttered.

"You ought to be familiar by now," she continued

"One does learn by repetition, as one _should_ learn by repetition," added Robert.

Wrapped in disbelief and annoyance, Booker returned no greeting but instead offered cynicism as he approached. "Every time you two show up, it's bad news," he groaned.

"We were already here."

"Déjà vu perhaps?"

"Look, I'm just looking for Elizabeth. She was in Rapture but I can't reach her. Have you two seen her?" Booker asked, impatient and slightly off-putting. "Something tells me you have."

"He still refers to her as Elizabeth, brother."

"I'd imagine she wouldn't take too kindly to that."

"Perhaps he hasn't quite gotten yet.

"Do you want to tell him or shall I?

Booker interrupted their usual riddling speech with a groan of irritation, "C'mon, we're wasting time here."

"What do you see her as?" Robert asked.

Caught off guard, Booker huffed, "W-What?"

"What do you see her as?" Rosalind repeated.

"Hey, that's none of your business," Booker sneered.

"Is that so?" Rosalind inquired through her sarcasm.

"Time_ is _our business"

"The very matter in which you will find yourself entangled in."

"A certain choice in which you will have to make."

"Broken, torn, and twisted. Why even bother?" Rosalind objected.

"You can heal the body, but never the mind"

Booker's patience was cut short. Seeing them only spelled trouble for him. He only wanted to be reunited with Elizabeth once more. To him, the Luteces were not friends but an obstacle in his way. "Ok, enough with the riddles. Where can I find her?"

"From the very door in which you came"

"Careful now. You wouldn't to hurt yourself kicking it the wrong way," Robert mocked as he held out his hand revealing a red cloth which halfway wrapped a strikingly familiar broach. Immediately after, Rosalind also held out her palm and on it rested a ring. Small in nature but beautiful nonetheless. An extravagant golden ring laden with silver and adorned with diamonds. One larger diamond sat snugly between six other ones. Its sheer size commanded respect and its beauty concealed all hints of frugalness. One who spared no expense to attain this ring was one who had a love most precious and priceless.

"That's my…" Booker whispered as he reached for his red ascot. _And Anna's broach she got from Columbia. She must have dropped this._ He pocketed the two sentimental objects and focused his attention on Rosalind's item. His brows furrowed as it was not something one easily offers.

"This is… It's a ring," he muttered, looking at Rosalind. "And no ordinary ring either. Where'd you get this engagement ring?"

"Time," she replied. "I believe this belongs to someone you know."

"What am I supposed to do with this?" Booker inquired.

"That is entirely up to you," Robert replied.

He gently picked up the shimmering ring and inspected it, slowly twirling it between his thumb and index. _Hell of a ring. Definitely something I can't afford. Not now at least._ Without giving it a second thought, he stuffed it into this pant pocket and made his way to the tower. He twisted the knob and opened the door, normally this time around. With a thud the door closed.

"Still the optimist," Rosalind stated.

"Are you implying that we shouldn't help?"

"I'm implying that what we're doing is almost meaningless," she rebutted.

"Almost but not quite."

"I suppose we all have our part to play.

"Hmm"

"I'd wager he's none the wiser.

"hmm"

…

The city in the sky.

The city in where it all started. The city where it will all end.

The sun had finally set on the fantasy like city of Elysium; evening had arrived sooner this time of year. Summer was nearing its end and autumn was just around the corner. The nights were cooler and its days shorter. The trees and its leaves were starting to trade its green colors for shades of yellow.

Each orbiting island, ten in total, gorgeous in its own right had now begun its nightly mesmerizing ritual of lights. One by one, each of them slowly released a single dim white orb glimmering from its town center. Shortly after raising upward, they started to radiate a soft white glow that illuminated their streets. Streetlamps were absent for there was no need. Homes lit from within, one after another. Serenity was the theme of Elysium, celebrated at times even. Incredibly, a large brilliant white orb of light blazed its radiance from the center hub of Elysium, the mountaintop. The orb was perched atop golden monument of a Goddess that sat on a tall tower visible from kilometers away. Shortly after its glorious presentation, the large orb slowly began to lower its luminosity to tolerable levels. It was beautiful. Rivalling that of the moon itself. All of the citizens of Elysium were now covered under the mysterious glow of the orbs. Some of the city dwellers say its technology that keeps the orbs and islands afloat. Others, more keen in their history and intellect, argue that magic is one sole responsible source.

Elizabeth found herself in a long beautiful and elaborately decorated hallway that housed gorgeous paintings and elegant stone pillars. On them were carved with depictions of a woman adorned with jewelry whom reached up toward to the clouds. Like a goddess, it must have been their religious idol. Quaint lamps hung on the walls, spacing themselves rhythmically apart. They welcomed a warm atmosphere, inviting anyone taking their first steps into paradise. After walking for a distance, finally she reached an enormous rotunda displaying architectural marvels for all newcomers. She was taken aback by the majesty that stood before her. Lips parted and eyes wide open, her eyes absorbed all the beauty that it could. Massive pillars stretching toward the ceiling surrounded a beautifully carved statue erected at the center. It was of the same goddess that she saw earlier in the hallway. The depiction was that of a woman whom reached for the heavens. With one hand held high and the other holding a pendant to her heart. Noticing this, Elizabeth brushed her finger tips where her broach would be. However, all she felt was nothing but the soft fabric of her choker. She looked at her hand and curled her fingers closed. _I must have lost it in Paris fighting that… thing._ A sparkling, reflection of light that touched her eye caught her notice. She slowly looked up at the large golden plate that covered the base of the statue. Elizabeth slowly read beneath her breath its description, "The coming of the messiah shall lead us unto salvation." Her brows furrowed as she wondered what it meant. "This is like Columbia all over again.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she had not notice several of Elysium's citizens nearby had began whispering and pointing at her. Slowly they began to crowd gather around her and the whispering became apparent. Broken from her train of thought, she looked around. Surprised from the amount of people whom surrounded her, she lightly smiled and attempted to speak, "Um, hello. Is something…"

A man in the crowd said aloud, "It's her." Another man stated, "She bears the mark!"

"The prophecy is true!" a woman excitedly exclaimed. Elizabeth now confused, she asked, "Prophecy? No, you must have me mistaken for someone else. I…"

"Elizabeth! Prophet Elizabeth the messiah!" A child no older than 10 shouted. "She has the mark!"

"What? N-No, my name is Anna, Anna Dew..." She tried to speak but the crowd began to lead her toward the exit of the rotunda. She had no choice but go where they took her.

As they all exited, Elizabeth was greeted by a large two-way street about 40 meters in diameter that led to another yet even more magnificent monument quite a distance away. This was the main street, an enormous city center hub that was surrounded storefronts and hotels. One corner was the entrance to the city. The opposite corner was the city's capital landmark. An enormous monument erected on top of architectural marvel of a mansion. The very monument that held the city's light orb. As political as it may have looked, it was a home.

Each store and each business place had strung lights that stretched over to the opposite side of the street. It was a lively scene. Some had sat for coffee. Others were dancing. Most were browsing around. They did not seem the religious type but Elizabeth would soon discover this to be far from the truth. That along with many of the city's secrets.

The crowd of people who at that point have fallen in love with their perceived idol. They all pointed at a mural that was painted on the median of the street between the two roads.

It was a picture of a lady, beautiful with long dark brown hair who solemnly held her hands to her chest. In her hands was a piece of jewelry connected to small silver chain draped over her hands. She wore a white dress and a choker around her neck, the same white dress and choker that Elizabeth currently was wearing. And on her hand was an inscription labeled, _B.D._

..

She couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe what she saw and what the people were saying. _Oh my God! is that… Me?_ She looked deeply at her right hand, her brand; from a time that seemed to have faded away in the wind. A time when her life was nothing but misery. Then, it was a painful reminder of who she lost. Now it is a proud symbol of who she loved. _Me? I-I don't understand. What am I to these people?_ Elizabeth was a name that she hadn't cared much for and wished that it would disappear into the past but somehow, it had followed her here to Elysium. It brought back memories of Comstock. The reminder of Comstock was made clear. A reminder of her prison. She instinctively tried to defend her position but not one person listened. Their murmurs became celebratory chatting. "My name is Anna Dewitt. I'm sorry. I'm not who you think I am," she stated. They spoke her name with such enthusiasm that Elizabeth felt that she couldn't oppose it any longer.

_I suppose it's because I look exactly like this Elizabeth of theirs that they think I'm her. But this picture has my branding. How's that possible? _Suddenly, an odd feeling took over her. _I feel… strange. As if I've been here before._ Her vision hazed and she began to feel slightly dizzy. In the midst of all the excitement around her, she immediately placed her fingers beneath her nostrils to check for blood.

_Nothing…?_

The absence of blood had her perturbed. It would seem that she was in a world where she belonged. As she tried to make sense of it all, a familiar figure approached the crowd and Elizabeth took notice. "Quite a lovely night isn't it?" He asked.

"Wait, aren't you?" Elizabeth spoke. "You're that man my father mentioned. Lonnie? No… Cohen?"

"Close, but almost not quite. Come with me, Mrs. Elizabeth. I do believe there is someone waiting for you," he said as led her out of the crowd by her hand. _Wait, did he just… _They began their walk to the monument. The people who celebrated her presence did not follow but stood behind and chatted amongst themselves in gladness.

…

Booker found himself standing in an atrium. After examining his surroundings, he concluded that he was in the lobby of a fancy mansion of some sort. The house was huge and whom the house belonged to was unknown to him. Beside him on both sides were large staircases that led upstairs. An elaborate chandelier hovered above him housing multiple candles. Their fire casted shadows which danced along the walls. Lamps also illuminated the large area along with them. It was a mixture that created a pleasant mood. He looked upward and noticed it, "Candles? Either I went back in time or this place is something else."

"Hello? Anybody here?" he called out. "Hello?" Shortly after announcing his presence, footsteps could be heard clacking toward him. A young girl dressed in maid attire greeted Booker with humbleness.

"Master Dewitt! You've returned. How was your trip?" she asked. _Master Dewitt? I've never even heard of this place, much less lived here,_ he thought. "Where am I?" he asked.

Taken aback from his unusual question she reluctantly answered, hoping not to upset him. "Y-You're home. This is where you live." Little did he know that where he stood was the very center of the city in the very house that the prophecy was birthed into existence. 'The coming of the Messiah should lead us unto salvation.'

"There is someone here to see you. She said she knew you. She is waiting in the guest room."

"Look, yeah, I'm a Dewitt but I'm no _master _to this house, or whatever this place is." The maid was surprised yet again. She lowered her eye to a corner and thought to herself, _his memory has gotten worse_. There was fear in her eyes. Fear of losing him completely to dementia.

"Alright, mind pointing the way? I'll help myself, thanks" he said, playing along. He had put aside all confusing events in hopes of finding Elizabeth in there. The events in Paris took a mild toll on him. He was not ready for another adventure that awaited him.

She was stunned that her master did even know his own house. In her eyes, Booker's mental health had degraded far. She answered with hesitation, "It's down the hallway to your left, past your study. But please master, it is not proper for you to be unattended. Follow me."

"Sure, lead the way," he grunted.

Booker followed her lead to the guest room and to his astonishment, incredibly, it was her. His eyes flashed open upon. Words failed to leave his lips as he stammered. His heart had dropped that very moment.

"A-Annabelle?!"

He could not believe whom stood before him. It has been 20 years ever since she passed away. Like reopening a wound, the pain he remembered returned, but also with it, incomprehensible joy. Because of her passing, he made poor choices, the choice to become a drunkard, to become violent, and to sell Anna. He had never forgiven himself for doing so and felt that he owed it to her by loving Anna. He felt his spirit soar as the face of his first love was there, and alive.

He slowly walked toward her. She was as beautiful as he remembered. Although 35 years old and no longer the young girl he knew, he still instantly recognized her.

"My love?" Annabelle rejoiced as she got up from the chair. "Booker! I thought I lost you!" she said as ran to him. He wasn't ready for an embrace. His memories and emotions of 20 years ago washed over him like a wave. His Annabelle was lost when she gave birth to Anna. This one wasn't his but evoked emotions that he couldn't control. His eyes began to get watery. Whatever hesitation he had faded like dust as he held her. "H-how?" he gasped as he held her tightly in his arms.

"I don't understand what's going on," Annabelle said. "I was with you and Anna in our house then came a loud noise. I opened the door and all of a sudden, I was in Paris." She explained. "We all ran out of the house thinking it would collapse but we saw was so much worse. I-I can't explain it but Paris was somehow under attack and t-this creature…" she stuttered. "This hideous beast took Anna and you ran after her."

Booker whispered to her to calm her down, "Annabelle I'm here. Anna's alive too. It's okay. You're here. I'm so glad you're here."

"Oh my God, where is she? Is she okay?"

There standing in the doorway was Elizabeth and the man from the shop. Confused and surprised, an emotion she had not felt since Rapture, started to boil from within her. She felt her hands curl into a fist.

"Booker?!"

…


	4. Chapter 4 - Misplaced

**Chapter 4**

**Misplaced**

Elizabeth stood in shock at the very sight of what she thought impossible. Wild emotions filled her mind and heart. She was ecstatic that her lover was alive and well again. However, anger and jealousy boiled form within her when she saw Booker intimately embracing someone else besides his daughter. Half of her spirt wanted to run and collapse into his arms, the arms of her savior. The other half wanted shout and yell from the bottom of her heart. She froze, dazed and confused. _Who was this person?_ She questioned in disgust. Surely it couldn't be her mother she thought. _How? And Why? _Lost in her emotions, she felt Booker's arms wrap around her before she could notice. His touched enabled her to regain of her emotions again. She closed her eyes and succumbed to his advance. Although she wanted to push him away, she could not. Her arms flung around his neck without her realizing. She pressed her cheek against his and gently dug her face into his strong chest after, sinking into her lover's heart. "Booker, I miss you. I was so worried," she whispered. It felt like an eternity but an eternity was not enough for her. Shortly after, she felt someone else's arms around her. Her eyes jutted opened from the unexpected warm touch of another beside Booker. It was in that moment she knew, that it was Annabelle. Abruptly and rudely shaken from her dreamy state of bliss, she wanted to halt Annabelle's affections but realized that she could not. It was inappropriate and therefore succumbed to situation. It bothered her nonetheless. She still felt angry and annoyed but ignored the nagging reminders.

"Anna!" she cried out. "Your alive!" I'm so glad you're okay! I was so worried"

A million thoughts raced in her heart. _What will happen to Booker and I now? Are we going to be a family? But I don't want this_. Booker was silent as he enjoyed being held by the two people who he loved the most. Giving into the situation, she released a deep sigh and closed her eyes once more. It was a complicated mixture of feelings she was not ready for, and she did not know how to process them. It was bittersweet,

"Anna, you're here!" Booker finally spoke. "You're okay"

Moments later, they let go of each other and Annabelle caressed her daughter's face with exceeding gladness. "My little baby," she whimpered, with tears in her eyes. However, Elizabeth knew the truth when she gazed into Annabelle eyes. The person in front of her was not her real mother. Her Annabelle passed the day she breathed her first. For a fleeting moment, Elizabeth wanted to believe it, to believe that they might have a chance to all be together again, to be family. It was a desire she had stored away long ago, a time when her innocence and naivety took rein. But those days are gone, and so was the dream. The hint of hope and desire died as quickly as it began for it was in that instant she knew what the presence of this imposter meant. She knew Booker's state of mind, his mental health, and how much he blamed himself for it all. This was a chance at redemption for him, a chance to undo all that he's done – to be normal. This would mean the end of them. She knew Booker as much as she knew herself, she was a part of him after all. They were broken and too far gone to wash away their sins. That was a sure fact that they could never deny no matter how much they tried. But Booker had set his sights on a higher horizon, a loftier goal, ever since the day he realized he sold her to Comstock. In this, he would eventually forget her and their relationship. Those jabbing, nagging, and haunting feelings denied her the pleasure of meeting her mother for the first time. It was an ominous omen that she must fight in order to keep what she has. She has fought all forms of adversity but never this. She has never faced the chance for them to become whole. To stay broken, twisted, and bloodied from sin, or to wash it all clean. That was a choice Booker made the moment he laid eyes on Annabelle, and that was a choice Elizabeth could not accept.

"Where did you get this dress? And your hair! We must primp you at once," Annabelle said with a sniffle. Though Elizabeth wanted to reply harshly as she always would against something or idea that she did not like, all that she could do was muster was a forced smile. "I'm okay. Don't worry about me." Elizabeth folded her arms and slowly walked toward the door in an effort to escape to be alone with her thoughts.

"But young lady!" Annabelle insisted.

"It's alright Annabelle. Let her be." Booker smiled, with his hand on Annabelle's shoulder and his other on cupping her cheek. "I still can't believe it," Booker said, with happiness in his smile. She fell into his arms once more. Elizabeth turned for a glance and the sting of defeat reverberated in her. She squinted in annoyance and burned with jealousy. Due to the enormous respect she had for Booker, she dared not get in between them… for now.

Evelyn was different story with a different situation. Without thinking twice, she threw a wrench in her plans so to speak. This one was different however. "_Annabelle,"_she muttered beneath her breath. Something had to be done and Elizabeth was not one to live out defeat for long. She would not go out without a fight. And so, at that moment, plans and ideas began to grow in her mind. Elizabeth walked away, not telling them where she would be.

Booker went with the motions as if he had completely forgotten who she really was. He did not give it much thought. Without second guessing whether her existence was real he lowered his chin to match hers and his lips demanded a kiss. Annabelle stood as tall as Elizabeth and resembled her closely. Therefore, the act came naturally. It was not awkward in the least bit. Elizabeth could not be found in his heart anywhere during that intimate moment. Annabelle had stolen it, for now.

…

The night was quite cool. The breeze brought with it the lovely scent of nature itself as it mingled with the air of Elysium's activities. The warm smell of bakery and food mingled with the fresh natural scent of the mountains complimented the city exceptionally well. Elizabeth took a deep breath, withdrawing the pleasing fragrance that crept its way up to the mansion balcony where she stood. She could see it all below – the stores and the liveliness of the people. The news must have spread quickly – the news of Elysium's savior. She could not seem to care at the moment though. She had gone to be alone to think, to contemplate but she could not force any productive thoughts. The plans she had were put aside for a moment. What she experienced was too distracting. All she could think of were her feelings, and all she could feel was betrayal. It was an odd feeling for she knew it was in a certain way, justified. Annabelle was his wife after all. She leaned on the railing, counting the lights that were hung up. Each one reminding her of the doors she used to be able to see. A gust of cool wind blew in from the east, sending shivers down her spine. The temperature seemed to have dropped quickly. Goosebumps rose on her arms as she tried rubbing them. Normally she would not be this cold. She was never good with the cold but no this particular night it was worse than usual.

Meanwhile, Booker asked the maid where the one could find the best view. He knew his daughter and he knew she would escape to be somewhere lovely. Without letting him out of her sight, she led him to the doors of the balcony and waited behind the doors. Elizabeth could be seen through the glass panels; she was a lovely figure. The moonlight shimmered on her bare shoulders while the wind brushed her hair. He gently opened the door in hopes to not disturb her and walked toward her. The sound of footsteps grew louder as he approached. She did not care to turn around nor did she care to say a single word when he reached the railing. To her, never had he felt so close yet so far away. It was quiet on the balcony. They stared down at Elysium in silence, studying the scenery. Not a single word left their mouths. Only the sound of the citizens and the wind occupied their ears. The occasional flapping of the flags that hung beneath substituted for their conversation. It eased the awkwardness slightly. Booker reached into his pocket to grab the items that she lost. He slowly held out his hand beside her. She looked down and noticed that it was Booker's ascot and her broach. Both were once cherished memories. Now they are a warning of what is to come and what could be lost. She painfully reached for her two favorite memoirs. She could not receive them in gladness. With dull movements, she grabbed them and held them to her chest.

Finally, after she received her belongings, Booker spoke, but with reluctance, "Anna, are you…" Elizabeth interrupted him with disapproval in her soft voice. "Did you kiss her?" she softly asked. Booker sighed and tried to formulate words that would soothe her soul. He failed miserably and it was too late however. She had already turned around to walk away. She knew the answer to her question and couldn't bear to hear him confirm her fears. "Anna, your mother is back. She's…"

"She's not my mother," she asserted, looking back at Booker sternly. "And she's not your wife…" With those final words Elizabeth exited the balcony. Booker pulled out the engagement ring and observed how it glimmered under the light of Elysium's orb. It was, in a way, an artificial moon. He was happy, happy beyond expression but he was also sad for Elizabeth. He loved her still and he knew this Annabelle was not the one he once knew. However, emotions tend to trump logic. Especially in desperate times. He looked up toward the distance, past Elysium's city borders and past the floating islands; hills and valleys as far as he could see. There was not a single sign of life in sight outside Elysium. This seemingly isolated city made him wonder about Elizabeth and Columbia; the adventures they shared, the loved the gave each other. It has been nothing but conflict after conflict. Turmoil within the spirit and challenges outside the body. The peace that the grand city seemed to have embodied was a stark contrast to what they felt within.

There was much to learn about where they were and many questions that needed answering. After wondering what to say to Elizabeth to encourage her, he abruptly left the balcony to find his mysterious friend from Paris. As soon as he opened the door, surprisingly, there stood Elizabeth at the railing looking down to the first floor. Not surprisingly however, was the maid; she had to follow him wherever he went. Music echoed throughout the halls. It was oddly familiar, reminiscent of a certain city in the sky. He approached Elizabeth to speak but noticed that she seemed preoccupied.

"Booker, look." She muttered, as Booker drew near. As he looked down he noticed it was his mysterious friend, playing the piano. His hands hopped from key to key and his body swaying with the tune. He was not in the least bit disturbed by all of the events that occurred; from Paris to Elysium. He was wrapped in playing that he did not notice them watching him. "He seems to want to help. He knows about us and Columbia." Elizabeth, determined to get answers, followed the railing that lead to the stairs. "Come on. He might know what's going on."

Booker place his hand on her shoulder and softly spoke words hoping to get her attention. "Anna, listen…"

"Not now, Booker," she glared. He could notice the disappointment and hurt reflecting off her eyes. Therefore, he withdrew his hand and nodded. Down the stairs they went as they looked at the man on the piano. As the stepped closer, his playing softened. Without even sparing a glance, he spoke. "I'm sure you have quite a lot of questions for me. Very well. Then explain, I shall." As the final notes to his song were pressed, he slowly stood from the stool and walked toward a doorway that seemed to have led to the rear or the mansion. "This way." He led to through the mansion halls and to an area generously plastered with windows that revealed a courtyard. It was filled with flowery gardens and in the center was a statue – the statue of the Goddess. "Hey, it's that woman again," she said in her surprise. "I wonder why she is so important that the people here immortalize her. Everyone at the welcome center kept saying that I was her."

"Not bad. The resemblance is spot on," Booker agreed. "This is my first time seeing it. If I didn't know any better, I'd say they were worshiping you."

"This just creates more questions than answers, and we're short on answers," she said.

"Hm, I think we're about to find out soon enough," Booker added.

As they arrive to the courtyard, the man walked to the statue, turned toward them, and smiled. "Shall I start from the beginning?"

"Start with your name, your real name," Booker blurted.

"You have known me as Lonnie. Let's leave it at that shall we? Any more information would only cause confusion."

"Fair enough," he replied.

"The worlds are colliding. Much of the world we're in is an unstable place. Places that you have visited, the past, and the future are starting to merge." Lonnie started to pace around as she spoke. It helped him explain things clearer. "Elysium is the only safe city, for now. Only because you two have never been here, not unnaturally at least," he continued.

"But then why do I feel, strange, like I've been here before. When I could see the doors it all made sense but now it's anybody's guess."

"When you, Mrs. Dewitt, have all merged into one being, the worlds fell out of sync, so to speak. Let me put it this way. That which is out of balance, will find balance again."

Booker then spoke as he noticed something interesting, "You said you're a Lutece. You sure don't look one." With his hand rubbing his chin he mumbled, "At least this one makes sense when he talks."

"You called me by Mrs. I'm not – wait a minute," Elizabeth said. "It's starting to make a kind of sense. Answer me this… How many times have Booker and I been here?"

"76. This is your 77th time," Lonnie answered.

"I don't get it," Booker stated.

"So something terrible must have happened in the future where the Luteces, the real ones, have brought us back each time. But How? I don't remember going through any tears," she deducted.

"You didn't go to another world; you went back in time. We can't afford to have you jumping worlds anymore," Lonnie added. "There is an anomaly, someone that doesn't belong here. Two, now that she has just arrived."

"She? Wait who's she? Are you saying that _anomaly_ is my wife?" Booker asked. Elizabeth scowled at Booker for mentioning Annabelle; saying she was his wife made her grimace in displeasure. She crossed her arms and turned to Booker to lay words of disapproval on him but before she could speak, Lonnie interjected.

"Your _wife? _No. She's is _exactly_ where she is supposed to be," Lonnie said with a grin. Booker responded against the uncertainty. "Who's the person you're talking about?"

"I suppose Evelyn is the other anomaly?" Elizabeth asked as she turned to Lonnie. However, in that instant, he was nowhere to be found, disappearing in an instant. "Great," Elizabeth groaned. "We didn't get to ask him about the statue.

"Looks like we got work to do. We gotta find Evelyn and demand that she tells us everything. I have a feeling she'll comply. If I recall correctly, getting information from her was a walk in the park," Booker said. "I'm going to check on Annabelle. I left her alone in the mansion."

"Ugh! You can't be serious. She can take care of herself," Elizabeth growled, her voice now with irritation. "You want to talk? Fine. Booker you need to wake up! That isn't who you think it is. Mother died more than two decades ago. Why can't you get that?"

"Anna, we have her back! She may not be the one you knew but she is back. You have to accept it."

"No, I am done, Booker. I am not just going to sit by and watch as she takes you away from me."

"Listen, nobody is losing anybody," he quickly rebutted.

"You sure about that?" Elizabeth argued. "You seemed to have forgotten who I am, who we are."

"You're my daughter, Anna." Booker said, his tone now softer. Elizabeth turned around and held her arms to warm them as the cool winds now turned cold. She could not look at Booker, not when he had someone else on his mind. It was to painful to see him and not shed a tear.

"So, what, are you going to share the bed with her tonight?" she asked,

"I can't be with you tonight, not with her around. Are you going to be okay?" He asked.

"Does it matter?"

"Anna, look. This is between me and her. I have figure this out. Give me time.

"Whatever you say," Elizabeth mumbled.

"Get some rest. I'm glad you're okay. I'll see you tomorrow morning," he said, as he walked away. Elizabeth slowly turned and watched as his figure shrunk. Elizabeth's strong facade faded away in the wind as her true emotions began revealing itself. The pain that she ignored finally amplified itself when she saw him disappear into the house. "You forget. I know you. I know exactly what you're up to." In her sorrow she lowered her head and gently bit her lip. The tears she had been holding back were starting to leak. She let out a whimper. That whimper then turned into a sob. She gritted her teeth thinking of him and Annabelle kissing. The image of them joining that night was an arrow to her already fragile and damaged heart. She regretted not stopping him. She felt as though she could have saved their first night in Elysium for themselves. But pride made her turn her back, and pride was also why she will spend the night alone. She once again resisted the urge to cry. She decided in heart that this was the last time she would be passive. Sniffling and glassy eyed, Elizabeth made her way back into the mansion where the maid showed her to her room.


	5. Chapter 5 - Reunion of hatred

**Chapter 5**

**Reunion of Hatred**

The rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock nearby created a peaceful atmosphere all throughout the upper floors where Elizabeth was. Most of the city was still lively but inside the manor was as quiet and serene as the mountain in which Elysium rested atop. Booker was in his room, the master bedroom, with his newly found lost wife. His door was somewhat closed, not entirely though. Voices could be heard from within. Elizabeth's room was next to his. An elaborately designed room just like the rest of the mansion, even her door was meticulously carved mahogany. She was escorted to her door by the maid servant but she did not enter. She froze when she noticed Booker's door was not closed. She released her grip of the door handle and slowly stepped toward Booker's room. The carpet muffled her footsteps along the way. "Misses, this is master's bedroom. He demands privacy. If I may politely ask, please retire to your room. Master needs his rest," the young maid humbly requested. Elizabeth ignored her suggestion with ease; it fell on deaf ears. She continued along until she had reached the doorway. She intended to eavesdrop but was prevented by the ever-diligent maid whom stood between her and her goal. "Misses, please," she insisted, her head bowed and hands clasped together. Elizabeth sighed and scanned the visage of Booker's servant. Strangely, Elizabeth felt a familiar hint of acquaintance as she scanned her face. She raised a brow in suspicion. "You.." she whispered, curious of who she actually was. Her intuition pressed her to dig deeper and reveal who this mysterious person was and what part she played in the grand scheme of things. She remembered the faintest hint of hate from her past when the maid slowly raised her head to Elizabeth, her innocent eyes vulnerable to her piercing gaze. "Wait a minute…" she muttered. "What's your name?" There was nothing but silence for a moment. Elizabeth released another sigh as she thought that her time was wasted being curious about nothing. Unexpectedly, the young girl hesitantly mumbled. "I-I don't have one. Master didn't give me one." Elizabeth's interest aroused again. "The head butler… said I could sing very well, like the birds in our garden. So he named me…" Elizabeth had interrupted her before she could finish. "I see..." Elizabeth whispered. "Constants and variables…" she continued. "And this… head butler of yours, must be that Lonnie guy. And your job is to what, follow Booker around?" She asked. The maid nodded her head in agreement. She lowered her head again in reverence to Elizabeth.

She played with her fingers as she tried to formulate words. "Mr. Lutece asked me to protect Master and be near him at all times, until – you arrive." Elizabeth again raised a brow to her odd statements. "But you look no older than 14. How can you _protect_ him?" The little maid returned to her respectful silence. Elizabeth could see that she longer had anything else to say. That was all the information that she could extract out of her. Content with that she heard, Elizabeth asked one for one favor. Leaning in near her ear, she whispered. Without hesitation the subservient maid nodded in acceptance turned around and knocked on the door. A voice answered; it was Booker's. Elizabeth stayed outside the room and waited as the maid entered, closing the door behind her. Elizabeth folded her arms and stood patiently, anticipating for the maid to return. She could faintly interpret what was being said but could not make much sense of it all. She could hear Annabelle speak. Her voice became louder. Shortly thereafter, the maid re-opened the door. She respectfully bowed and exited the room while Annabelle followed behind. Elizabeth's gaze was not directed at the maid nor was it at Annabelle. She stared out the hallway window that was close by, hoping to avoid conversation with Booker's estranged wife. As Annabelle approached, she politely asked, "Are you okay?"

"I just need second," she quickly replied, not giving Annabelle the look of a bitter woman that she carried.

She slowly entered the master bedroom and there stood Booker exactly as she expected, leaning on the bottom portion of the bed frame, all with his shirt half unbuttoned and his belt loosened. He stood as motionless as was his mouth. No words came from him as Elizabeth slowly approached. His gaze was on his daughter, his true lover. The moonlight along with Elysium's glow dimly lit the dark bedroom creating a romantic atmosphere. The ornate windows casted light all along the floor in which she passed over. His hands were at rest on the bed frame, waiting for her come near. "Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned. Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned," she quoted as she drew close. Booker raised his eyebrows in curiosity and asked, "You get that from Comstock?"

"No," she softly answered when she was finally within reach. "It was a play. One of my books described it." She wanted to talk about their situation and what she wanted. In totality, Elizabeth wanted Booker to pay her more attention, to forget this imposter. But she could not find the will to speak. Her lover was in front of her, alone for the first time in Elysium. She rested her palm on his masculine chest while the other slowly worked at his remaining shirt buttons. "You wanted to talk about something?" he uttered. His stature was intoxicating. She could not resist. Her drooping eyes were heavy with passion, and her lips, parted, ready for love. Her gaze that was on his chest, turned upward to meet Booker's lips. His composure was strong, but now was beginning to crumble. He had seemed steadfast and unwavering in this dedication to Annabelle but it all had started to wash away beneath the weight of Elizabeth's seductive whispers. "Booker… I miss you." He couldn't fight it. He had tried before not long ago and failed miserably. Having learned his lesson, he gave in. Booker's hands found themselves where they should not be; drifting down his daughter's shoulders. A piece of fabric slipped between Booker's fingers and gently, he pulled her dress down from her shoulders. His eyes moved downward as he studied her smooth skin reflecting the moonlight. The beauty of her neck and the collar that she wore, it was as if he saw it for the first time. Lower and lower his eyes went until her breasts were in focus. They were almost exposed. He paused his movements for a moment. His hands did the deed without his knowledge. He asked his heart in that moment if what he should be doing was right, and it answered. He felt no regret or shame for actions. And with a forceful yank, her top slipped down to her waist, locking her arms to her. She quietly gasped from his forceful tug. Her jaw lowered and her lips were now wet, ready for it all. Her heart was ready and it welcomed his advances. Booker's aggressive drive was water to a parched desert desperately needing love. Her breast was now exposed and vulnerable, begging to be covered and protected. He answered the request as his large hands cupped them. It was a perfect fit. His daughter's breasts we're made for him. A small whimper of pleasure escaped as she began to close her eyes. She begun to realize what she was missing. She could feel it – the urge. The animalistic rage that desired him immensely. Her breathing became ragged as she leaned in closer. She could feel herself, her other region. She could feel it becoming moist. That too was ready for him. Her body telling her from all avenues that it was ready.

Booker gently caressed Elizabeth's cheek as his other hand worked its way down her bare back toward her rear. She couldn't hold the desire any longer and leaned in to take what was rightfully hers. Their lips met with fiery passion as they kissed. She wanted to free her arms from her dress to feel his masculine face but her heart and body wanted to be dominated. She effortlessly succumbed to her deep yearning and let her arms hang loosely in place as they started making love. She was like prey in the jaws of a predator, one that has given up. He released his lips from hers and went after her precious neck. With a stern grab of her rear, she moaned, louder than before. Her labored breathing now turned to soft pants as her lungs searched for air. The primal instinct within his body had overtaken his gentleness as he held her arm, locking it further. And with his other, he tugged on her long dark hair, pulling her head back. "_Father_," she whimpered. It was carnal that called him by what he was. She could not help it.

Back her head went, exposing more of her defenseless neck. Unexpectedly, Booker nibbled and sucked on it. Her quiet whimpering now had transformed into full on moans of pleasure. _How can he be so sensual?_ She thought as she enjoyed his love. His wife, her mother, was not too far away. She was sure that Annabelle had heard it. But her cares were unanswered, she was too enveloped in her desire. With both hands now cupping her behind, he lifted her up and held her in his embrace. She was petite, perfect for him. Elizabeth gasped again from Booker's surprise. She freed her arms and held his manly jaw as she leaned in, demanding more from his lips. She squeezed her knees against his waist tightly as if she would never see him again. "I love you. Stay with me," she pleaded through her panting as she kissed. She was wet now, completely. It had soaked through her undergarment. Booker's fingers could feel the moistness of her panty. The realization of his daughter being wet for him had sent him into a frenzy. In that moment, with his other hand, he reached for his zipper to undo it. It was now too tight for him, strangling his member. With great effort he was able to bring it out. Long and hard, wide and thick, its head touched and rested on her slit. The only barrier between their copulation was her dripping wet panty. It was throbbing and she could feel it intimately. With every pulse of his, she clenched hers in response. She briefly parted from his lips and whispered, "That's where it belongs." With a smile, she slowly combed his hair with her fingers, working her way to his neck, where they rested. "Inside your daughter, not her. Father, you made me so I can be yours." Booker was mesmerized by her feminine wiles, her eyes, and her sexuality. They had shared much more than he and Annabelle ever did. However, he remembered Annabelle and what she brought with her – redemption. "Anna…" he moaned. He was in a different battle, not one of shame and guilt, but to accept or deny the chance to be made whole again. He wasn't sure and his eyes revealed it to her. She knew his inner battle. She was a part of him. So she whispered to him, encouraging him to let it go. "We can never wash away our sins," she whispered. "Father, we can't undo what we've done, who we are," she continued, gently stroking his scruffy chin. "We were destined to be together. Even the Luteces knew this."

Booker closed his eyes and inhaled the now humid and hot air. He paused his romance but for a moment. Surprisingly, and in what seemed like an instant, he pulled her panty to the side and slid it in abruptly. Elizabeth gasped from the incredible sensation. Her eyes flung open in amazement. Gratification and pleasure overtook her as she closed them again. He took her without asking like a hunter and the hunted. It was her fantasy, for him to lay her down so he can have his way. She let out a moan so wild anyone within earshot could hear it. Booker spun her around and laid her body on the bed. Her legs now in the air, and her arms wrapped around his chest, she released a blissful moan through her parted lips. He could feel her heavy breathing blow past his ear, her voice sultry and sensual. He knew he loved her with all his heart and he was going to make this night theirs. His hips thrusted with passion, sliding her body up and lowering her body as he withdrew. She was in heaven, in pure ecstasy. He had taken her where she craved to be. Again, he thrusted. She loved that he did it with force. He took her wrists and held her down, preventing any chance of escape. With his lips he suckled on her exposed neck as he forcefully pumped his body. He was ravenous. "Father!" she moaned loudly. With every push, he sent her higher and higher toward sky. She had dreamed of the day that her father had his way with her. She was so starved of his love.

Her body was already there. Without even realizing, she had reached her climax within a short time. Her mind went blank as she let his love carried her through the heavens. He grunted as he mercilessly rammed her. She was tight as when he first had her and wet as that night in Columbia. Her voice passionately echoed throughout the room. "Father, I'm… I'm…" Faster and faster he went, stealing her ability to speak. She curled her toes from the pure overwhelming might of their shared bliss.

Elizabeth had surpassed beyond her limit, her climax. Her moans quickly turned into squeals of pleasure for she could not control even her voice. She had lost control and was in so deep, drowning in the irresistible essence of their copulation. She tried to regain her breathing rhythm but failed miserably. Her clit was pulsating with each push. Her pussy squeezed and tightened down on his shaft, like never before. The sensation that came with it made Booker grunt loudly as he felt he was going to explode. She dug her fingers into his back, fighting for the chance to take a deep breath. They were sweating from the sex. Her juices had oozed down to the bed sheets, creating a small puddle. He could not hold it. He too had lost control and shot within her canal and at her womb. His rod had attempted to get her pregnant twice. She felt every drop of his semen hit her cervix. A bolt of electricity crawled down her spine with each shot. His pumping slowed until finally he stopped his thrusting after he had done his share of ravaging. An abundant amount dripped out, past her inner lips and slid down to the bed. She was panting, hard and heavy, full of sweat. Her legs were shaking and her hands, trembling. Never had he pleasured her in that way before. She could not form words, her fragile sounding voice released nothing but rhythmic whimpers under the pale Elysium light. Elizabeth was in a daze as she laid there with her eyes closed. Booker attempted to slowly get up but he felt her hold on him tighten. "No…" she begged, through her ragged breathing. "Stay with me."

"Yeah," he whispered. He had acquiesced to her desire and softly kissed her neck, cheek, and worked his way to her lips. At that moment his eyes took in what was before him. His daughter undressed, beautiful and perfect laying beneath him. He could see what he had done to her. Her chest rising up and down touching his chest was evidence. He took her innocence that one night in Columbia. Now he had taken her virtue. What was never to supposed to be was now demanded from her. Had he known from the beginning, he might have acted differently. The image of his daughter being his wife rang no warning bells while they were in Paris. Now, things were different, here in Elysium.

He was still unsure.

Suddenly, the door creaked open as the maid announced her entrance. She bowed her head and apologized for the intrusion. "I am terribly sorry, Misses. But the lady is coming. I've tried my best." Booker got up and extracted his member from her. Semen gushed out of from her hole. He quickly crammed his shaft back in and zipped up his pants. Elizabeth took a deep breath as she opened her eyes. Slowly, she attempted to sit up but her energy was drained and she fell back unto the bed. "I got this. Here," Booker said as she helped her up. "T-That was amazing," she happily breathed, as she brushed her hair behind here ear. She turned to gaze into Booker's eyes. Her innocent smile was brilliant. That was the smile that first caught Booker's heart in Soldiers Field. It was only when she was close to him that she experiences true happiness. Booker was everything to her – he was her savior. Being her father held no complicated consequences.

Regrettably, he blurted, "Anna, you gotta go." Her expression quickly changed. In her confusion, she begged, "W-What? I don't understand. I thought..."

"You heard the little girl. Your mot – Annabelle is coming," he retorted.

"Then let her see," Elizabeth contended. "C'mon Anna don't make this more difficult than it should be."

"No, Father, she _needs_ to see," Elizabeth insisted as she stood up. Booker frowned from Elizabeth's stubbornness. He was adamant on keep their love a secret. Without saying a word, he looked at her with a disapproving stare. "Fine. But you should be ready for when it does happen." Out of respect for her father, she submitted. Outside of Booker's realization, it was in that moment Elizabeth had decided in her heart. She was determined that a change needs to happen.

It was time for her to take action.

"Give me time Anna. I will fix this." Without replying Elizabeth pulled her dress over her shoulder as she headed for the door. Annabelle had walked to the doorway seconds later. Elizabeth walked passed the maid and glared at Annabelle with hot hatred radiating from her eyes. She had given only one person that piercing stare – Comstock.


	6. Chapter 6 - A night out

**Chapter 6**

**A night out**

Annabelle had scampered back to the master bedroom in a hurry, eager to discover the out of place noises. The once quiet and peaceful air within the mansion had dissipated the moment she saw her. Suspicion and fear rang in her heart as Elizabeth breezed past her, with hair unkempt and a shoulders bare. Her untidy dress and glistening face hinted toward distrustful and unforgiving acts. Elizabeth's dark glare that pierced her spirit filled her with anxious thoughts and questions that must be answered. Moans of pleasure that she had heard while downstairs was what prompted her to return early, despite the little maid's efforts.

Booker was exactly how Annabelle had left him, with the exception of a few extra buttons removed. Elizabeth however was blatantly obvious in her act. There was no denying the sounds and her dress; it was halfway on. Annabelle was lost for words in seeing Elizabeth. Therefore, she turned right to Booker and immediately scurried to him. The sheen on his chest gave way to more suspicion as she examined him. "Booker!" she gasped, realizing that he too was sweaty from their sinful act. "Annabelle, listen – It's not what you think," he said, in an effort to save his dignity. "Did you… What have done with our daughter?!" she voiced, anxiety in her tone. "Booker, explain! What's going on?!" she demanded. Annabelle had already believed in her heart that they have committed a transgression beyond forgiveness. Their innocence was out of the question. She was surprisingly quick to judge. Booker's tone betrayed his words. It was plain to see but Annabelle gave him one chance to redeem himself. "Me and Anna, we didn't do anything." His tone, more serious as he realized he had just jeopardized his only ties to reclamation. He understood that he couldn't have Elizabeth without his sin. But he also could not have Annabelle with Elizabeth. She had made that abundantly clear. It was a choice he had to make, one that arrived too soon. The Luteces had warned him about this, although he did not give them an ear or time of the day. He treasured his relationship with his daughter but also craved for the chance to be made new again. In the urgency of the moment, he could not distinguish which choice was selfish and which was the sacrificial path. So therefore, he stalled; as he has before. Typically not indecisive however, Annabelle left him with no choice but to not choose. Again, he attempted to coerce her into believing that which had truly happened, was just her imagination. He made her out to be the fool. Therefore, he did what he has done before, to delay the inevitable.

In her love for the misplaced Booker, she yielded to his incoherent explanation. She wanted to believe that he was innocent. Elizabeth inherited more than just similar appearances from her mother; she inherited the unconditional love that drove her to the edge of madness for him. Although from another dimension, Annabelle's qualities were all the same. "Please tell it isn't true…" she pleaded, with tears in her eyes. His only reasonable response was to pull her in and hold her tight, reassuring her that he was not the sinner whom he truly was. She fought her suspicion at the cost to her dignity. He had wronged her and thus birthed guilt that night. It began slowly steeping in his heart.

Annabelle wrapped her arms around Booker snugly, not wanting to let go. Through the short time that they spent together, he has yet to reveal to her the truth of their circumstances. In her heart, she believed that Elizabeth's lover was the Booker that she loved from her own universe. Although they looked and acted similar, they were vastly different.

To live a righteous lie, or a live a sinful truth… Booker will have to decide.

…

In the tranquil courtyard, there stood Elizabeth, admiring the nightshades that bloomed under the pale glow of the moon. A certain flower had caught her attention. It was purple, small, and quite humble. Its bloom lacked zest, quite the opposite of magnificent in comparison to its surrounding competition. She had taken interest in the modest flower. With a gentle tug, she plucked it from its branch and brought it close to her nostrils for a whiff. Although lowly in stature and beauty, its fragrance was incredible, easily surpassing the other more lovelier flowers. It brought pleasant feelings to her, reminding her of her short blissful days in Paris with Booker. She relished in those sweet memories, closing her eyes as she reminisced of days gone by. It felt like a dream. She wondered if those days would ever return. Although Elysium's beauty and splendor overshadowed Paris, she was not one for empty beauty. To her, Paris was home. And her home carried many wonderful memories, many of them sentimental. Her eyes slowly opened when she remembered where she was.

The stillness was broken when Lonnie, whom reappeared behind her, spoke in a serious tone. "Are you sure? That choice you will make. Are you absolutely sure?" Elizabeth gently twirled the flower between her fingers as she stood in silence. She took the flower and wedged it into her hair. The purple hues complimented her blue eyes. No other two colors were more compatible. "Has to be done," she asserted. Her heart was determined to see it through. "Then I fear the worst," he admitted.

"Do I have really have a choice?" she asked, somber in spirit. "What about Booker and me. Did we? When I saw all the doors, all of me, every version… We all fell in love." She slowly turned to Lonnie, holding her pinky while examining it.

"You _do_ have a choice," he assured.

"Really?" she sarcastically asked. "One thing I learned when I had – omniscience, or whatever you call it," she added. "…is that all the paths leads to the same shore."

Lonnie's gaze was stiff and his appearance, solemn. He listened intently and waited for her to finish. His intentions were pure unbeknownst to Elizabeth.

"I wouldn't have any other way" Her smile returned as she pulled out the photo she had found earlier, studying the Booker and Anna. "If I had a chance to start over, new and fresh," she continued. "Where I can be the Anna that is – normal… I wouldn't take it."

"Is that what your father would say?" Lonnie asked.

"…I-I don't know anymore," she reluctantly answered. "I'll make him understand. Whatever it takes…"

"You certainly are your father's daughter," he said. Elizabeth looked at the photo once more, running her finger down the torn portion.

"This Annabelle. She thinks she can come here and take away…" she stated as she looked back up to Lonnie who was now gone. She was alone once again and not a hint of his presence was there. She let out a weary sigh and slipped the picture back into her dress belt. Her heart was like a raging whirlwind and she wanted to calm her thoughts. One cannot sleep under that amount of stress. Therefore, she stepped out of the courtyard with intentions to go for a stroll. The streets of Elysium should clear her mind. In the very least, it should distract her. So out the front doors she went, into the night.

…

It was a hell of a day. The night did not prove to be any less stressful, even in the new city. To call it home would be far from the truth. The Dewitt's true home was Paris. But Paris was long gone, the city has been reduced to rubble. Booker did not seem to care much for sights of wonder, or rare beauty, even if it was exceptional. Columbia was once a sight to behold; A flying city in the clouds. Not a single word of adoration came from his mouth about Comstock's city. Elizabeth was in very much the same way, though much less oblivious to beauty. She did appreciate the finer things, but what she truly valued was that which cannot be seen.

The night had proved to be too much. Booker found himself enjoying a peaceful stroll down the main street of the city. It was still bustling. Its denizens had occupied themselves with a preparation of some sort. Balloons were being tied to buildings and decorations littered all along the large street. Ribbons were being secured to store signs that hung above their respective stores. Flags were being flown. Numerous miniature lights seemingly floated along the street without being tethered to any sort of support. Magic was apparent here, either that or some sort of science beyond his knowledge. Although it was a quarter after eight, their activities and efforts were considerable. "So much for a quiet walk," he grumbled as he walked passed a lively bar. "I need a smoke."

He made his way down along the busy street, passing a boutiques goods store. "Sir? How about a vest? You'd look dashing for the upcoming celebration!" A young girl called, who stood in front promotion the store. "No thanks." _I doubt they got what I need. _The next stop down was an antique shop. It strangely resembled Lonnie's shop in Paris. "Huh," he grunted, remembering his shenanigans with the man. He effortlessly dodged the children that ran around, playing in the streets. It was surely passed their bed time curfew but that night was an exception. He looked up and read aloud, "Adam's confections galore… Right, not here." He continued to wander along in search of tobacco to comply with his vice. "Evening," he nodded. A couple of young ladies giggled and whispered amongst each other as they walked passed Booker. Paying them no mind, his eyes read something that caught his attention. 'Drugs & General Goods.'

"Bingo," he mumbled as he made his way to the entrance; it was just several paces away. An inviting aroma of baked food breezed past his nose, reminding him that he had not eaten a single bite for hours. A cigarette compliments a good meal. His stomach began to rumble. He gripped the brass door handle with the intent to swing it open but when he did, a familiar voice called out.

"Catch," Elizabeth blurted, tossing him a pack of cigarettes. With perfect reflexes, he caught the flying box with ease. "Anna!" he said, surprised. "What are you… And how'd you know I…," he stammered.

"If I didn't know you, would I be your daughter?" she smirked. She had positioned herself comfortably in a chair next door, at a bakery shop's storefront. She helped herself to a croissant and some tea, all free, compliments from the store titled, 'Oxford's Bakery Co.' Booker examined the strange brand of cigarettes and proceeded to pull one out. He stuck the cigarette between his lips and patted his pant pockets for something he never had. "Here, let me," Elizabeth calmly said as got up from her chair to help him with a light. "You know you really should drop this habit," she said, with a grin. She was happy to be with him, to have him near. "I tried it once, during my stint in Rapture. It was never something I could do in perpetuity."

"I don't follow," he replied.

"That. I never found the taste for it. C'mon this way. We need to get us something new to wear," she suggested as she led him on a walk down further down the main street. They walked alongside each other, with Elizabeth close. She took the opportunity and locked her arm with his; a romantic gesture, one meant for lovers. "I don't think our money is worth anything here," he said as they continued. "They'll do for us gratis, just like my tea and croissant. They seem to think me a goddess." People whispered in delight when they noticed who graced their presence. Each person, man and woman, all greeted them with a smile when they walked passed. Men tipped their hats and women bowed their heads. Even the children giggled in happiness. "Good evening sir!" A waiter who was serving his guests noticed and waved at the couple.

"Booker, how many people here, do you think – do what we do?"

"You mean the making forbidden love under the stars part? I'd imagine none."

"We met as strangers… Can you really blame us?" she said, tightening her lock on his arm.

Elizabeth pointed to a nearby shop that sold dresses and outfits for men and women. The ground level was accessories and the 8th level above was the clothes. There were no stairs to reach the 8th floor, only an elevator. They entered the store and as expected, was greeted with pleasantries and offers of donations. The owner felt honored that Elizabeth would grace her store. She considered it a blessing. Elizabeth asked where the she could find section for men and women. The owner pointed to the elevator and politely bowed.

"Don't we already have something to wear in one of our closets back at the house?" Booker mentioned.

"The mansion? Yeah, but we're already here we so might as well."

The elevator doors opened and inside was a wonderful view carved from a gold plate panel that served as the back wall of the elevator. Elegant leaves and branches were cut out of the golden plate. Behind that, was glass and they saw the Elysium's orb light seeping through the cuttings from above, casting beautiful shadows on the floor. They entered the elevator and Booker searched for the controls while Elizabeth stood close to the artwork, observing it. He had found only a single button and instinctively balled his fist and slammed it. "How does this know where we want to go?" He mumbled. Elizabeth turned her head around to the loud noise as she took notice. "Has anyone told you that you can be little rough?" Thinking back to the Luteces teasing him for kicking the lighthouse door, he replied, "Yeah, once or twice." They stood and waited as the elevator slowly lifted them up. It was a long ride made even longer by the awkward silence between them.

"You know – we don't have talk about it if you don't want to," Elizabeth hesitantly suggested. Booker did not comment on the matter of Annabelle. He stood in silence and did not want to focus on it anymore that night. His mind was almost blank except for a few curiosities.

"You called me Booker."

"What?" she asked.

"And when we're… You also called me…"

"Father? We went over this. I see you as both," she smiled, staring out the elevator. They were quite high now and the moon was in plain sight. It was lovely view. The moon shined just as brightly as it did thousands of years ago. Its calm glow deceivingly suggested that the world was at peace. It was as if everything that happened, was just a dream.

"So what do you prefer? She inquired, looking back at Booker.

"Whatever you fancy."

"Anna Dewitt, in love with her father and carrying his child. Sounds terrible if you think about it," she smirked.

"Sounds like a nightmare."

"Not compared to the things we've already done," she replied as she turned to Booker, wrapping her arms around his chest. With her head leaning on him, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath from her exhaustion. Booker kissed her head and held her in his embrace. She needed it. It had been a long day.

"What did you tell her," Elizabeth finally asked.

"I didn't."

"I figured that," she disappointingly said. The elevator finally had reached its floor with a harmonic ding. Elizabeth slowly detached herself from his warm arms. "C'mon, let's see what we can find you." They perused the store for things to wear. Luckily its price was all covered under the grace of Elizabeth. Booker had no interest in trying on different outfits. Whatever fitted him was what he was going to wear. Elizabeth, on the other hand tried on dress after dress. Booker watched his daughter smile as she scurried around, deciding what to choose. He has not seen her happy since their short time in Paris. He appreciated what he had, as wrong as it was. Her humming brought a smile to his lips. He had accepted in his heart what who they were; it was a battle he overcame. This new temptation of holiness was alluring however. The battle he had never won was the battle within himself, he blamed everything on his past mistakes. Forgiveness for who he was – that was the struggle he wrestled with.

"Booker, white or black?" she asked, from across the room. He needed to cleanse his body off rather than browsing for clothes. He whipped out his pack of cigarettes and attempted to ignite it but again forgot that he didn't have any means to light it. He looked over to Elizabeth whom carried a worrisome expression. She was approaching him with a particular outfit. "Booker, look," she solemnly said, holding it up for him to see. The blouse was white and its collar – blue with yellow embellishments. It came with a long skirt that was also blue. Booker's face scrunched as he recognized it. "This was what I wore the day you came to my tower. And now it's here. What do you think this means?"

"Nothing good," he responded.

"Let's head back. We'll figure this out tomorrow," said Elizabeth. She had already chosen their outfits for tomorrow. They needed to shower. All the grime had collected on their bodies, not to mention other fluids.

They arrived back at the gates of the mansion and paused, looking upward toward the enormous monument. The monument depicted the supposed Elizabeth reaching upward. It was symbolic to the prophecy that is to happen. The orb in her hand glowed steadily, illuminating all of Elysium. "What do you suppose her… or me, is reaching for?" Elizabeth asked.

"Hell if I know. All these religious lunatics are out of their minds," he retorted. Elizabeth chuckled at his comment, more so at the irony behind what he said. "You were once a religious zealot," she added, grinning as she spoke.

"And you, the seed of that zealot," he rebutted.

"Good evening and welcome back, Master. Misses. Please follow me. I have dinner prepared." They looked to the maid who unexpectedly approached them. They followed her as she led them back into the mansion. There was one outstanding thought that Elizabeth meant to ask Booker but forgot. Fortunately, she had just remembered.

"Booker, how did Annabelle get here? Did you ever ask her?"

"No, but I intend to find out tonight."

"Master, please don't forget. Tomorrow is the day you announce the Mrs. Elizabeth's arrival," the maid instructed.

"What? I didn't plan on... Right, when do I do it?" he asked.

"At noon. I have made all the preparations."

_There it is again,_ she thought. Elizabeth's curiosity entitled her to ask the maid a certain question. "Who am I married to?"

Taken aback by her abrupt question, the maid paused for a moment. In her nervousness, she bowed her head, apologized, and addressed Booker. "I'm sorry master. I thought you said you found her. And that you were married to her as well. You sent letters to me and the head butler, instructing us to prepare for her arrival." Elizabeth raised her brow in interest of what the young maid servant said. "Really..." she slyly murmured. With a mischievous grin she looked at Booker. "C'mon_ dear _we have much to discuss over dinner," she insisted, with a sly tone. She gently took his hand as she locked her cunning eyes with his, leading him to the doors of the mansion. With a genuine smile, she opened the large double door entrance.

_I-I never sent no letter..._ He thought as he followed her lead.


	7. Chapter 7 - Reunion of sorrow

**Chapter 7**

**Reunion of sorrow**

The steady and rhythmic ticking greeted the Dewitts as they entered the lobby. The hour was late and the air, thick with tension. Hand in hand they followed the lead of the maid toward the grand dining room. It was arguably the most lavish of all the rooms within the house. Three chandeliers hung above a long beautifully carved table that stood proudly in the center. It was meant for feasts and celebrations however, tonight, it will only entertain three persons. On the wall, furthest of the entrance was an overly adorned fireplace. Above that was a large painting of their prophet, their messiah. Three meters long and two meters in length, it captured every detail of the goddess. All of the painted features mirrored Elizabeth, accurate to the color of her eyes – deep blue. Large knitted curtains draped down to the dark chestnut floor, covering the massive windows that surrounded the room. A few weapons were displayed on the walls. One was a large rifle. Another was a saber. None of which were decorative replicas. There was a certain handgun that hug just above the fireplace and below the painting. It was a magnum revolver, large and powerful.

On the table were silver in the form of plates and utensils all strewn evenly. Food was already prepared and placed at the end, ready to consumption. Only three persons worth of food occupied the plates. One of the rules within the house was to never waste anything. Sitting at the end of the long side was Annabelle. She had arrived before them and sat herself down, waiting for their return. She had her hands on her lap fiddling with her fingers. Her head was slightly lowered, hinting of internal turmoil. Her expression was that of sorrowful maiden. When she heard footsteps, she glanced over only to realize her fears were true. Seeing them return after a night out with their hands together proved Booker's reassurance for her, false. She voiced no words as they made their way to where she sat. She could not look Booker in the eyes, much less Elizabeth.

The servant made her way to the corner beside the fireplace, held her hands together at rest and stood on standby, waiting to be useful. Elizabeth sat down opposite of Annabelle, sending her glaring stares. Booker placed his hands on Annabelle's shoulders and kissed her head as a greeting before he sat down on the end between them. Elizabeth quickly shot Booker a glare before returning to stare down the woman. The maid speedily scurried to the table to remove the silver plate covers, revealing deliciously cooked gourmet food. They were all prepared by her own hands. She proceeded to return to her corner and waited once more. Booker looked at Annabelle, who refused to look up. Then over to Elizabeth, who sat cross-legged eyeing down her would be rival. It looked to be a perfect family setting but that could not be further from the truth. The crackling wood of the fireplace complimented the ticking of the grandfather clock nearby. It was silent, almost eerie. "Alright you two," Booker half-heartedly encouraged. He began to pick up the utensils but was distracted when Elizabeth spoke with disdain in her voice.

"Can you please pass me a wine glass _dear_," she asked, her eyes still locked on Booker's other. Annabelle raised her head and looked Elizabeth and Booker with mild shock, her mouth open. The maid hurried back over but Elizabeth halted her actions with words. "No, I want Booker to do it." She nodded her head and returned to her corner. Hearing the out of place words from Elizabeth was disconcerting to Annabelle. She was in disbelief. "Anna!" she spoke, with a scolding tone. "You don't address your father that way!" Her statement annoyed Elizabeth and she responded to her correction with a sharp tone. "Why don't you ask Booker what he prefers?" Annabelle defeatedly looked to the side in disappointment. "This is what she warned me about," she muttered. Booker rubbed his face from what was beginning to unfold before him. He just wanted to eat, and that was all. His patience for the day had worn thin and in his irritation, he spoke out. "Anna, c'mon. Eat your food." Elizabeth looked over to him and temporarily receded her off putting attitude. Overtime, she had learned to respect him, fear him even, as all daughters should of their fathers. She was a strong-willed person and it took an even stronger person to tame her. Booker was the right person for that job. It was, in fact, only Booker who she submits to.

He placed the wine glass near her plate as he started to eat his portion. "Annabelle. Who warned you?" Booker asked. "What did she warn you about?"

Annabelle remained silent, not touching her food. "He asked you a question," Elizabeth asserted. "Anna, that's enough," Booker interjected.

"Some auburn haired gal by the name of Lutece," she reluctantly answered. "Excuse me. I've lost my appetite," she said as she stood up, tossing her handkerchief on the table. "Annabelle, hold on a minute. You haven't even…," Booker said, as he tried to stop her. Annabelle walked away without speaking another word. Booker tossed his fork down and groaned as she disappeared into the hallway. Ignoring Annabelle, Elizabeth crossed her arms and started to verbalize her thoughts. "It can't be Rosalind. She wouldn't do something like that."

"You sure? How well do you know her?"

"Well enough," she confidently replied.

"Then it has to be Evelyn," Booker concluded. He wasn't completely committed to the conversation. His thoughts were still on Annabelle.

"Right. And we can only assume that she brought Annabelle to this world. I don't think we're getting anything else out of her tonight."

"Anna, I want you to call her mother from now on."

Surprised and aggravated by what he said, she furrowed her brows in disbelief. "You're kidding!" she scoffed. "Booker, no! Don't ask me to do that," she argued, rejecting his command.

"I wasn't asking," he said, with displeasure in his voice.

"Yeah, and I'm not…" she blurted.

"You _will_ call her mother."

Elizabeth paused and thought of something clever to say but respected his wishes. She retreated her eyes to her side and balled her hand into a fist. Anger was her first reaction, anger toward Annabelle. But then emotions of fear began to take over, his relationship with the new woman was starting to take form.

It was actually happening and all too quickly. She felt hopeless against it. Sooner or later, she would have stay her resistance against the inevitable. Elizabeth was never the one to submit so easily but her circumstances have proved to be difficult. Navigating her way through this tricky situation and finding happiness was becoming increasingly unattainable. It seemed that Booker wanted, accepted this new offer of freedom. In spite of his love for her, he seemed to have chosen this new path. She was not sure of what he wanted but it was clear of where the direction of their relationship was headed. Tired from it all, she stood up. Without having a single morsel of food, she decided to return to her room and rest. It was a big day tomorrow. And she needed to be ready.

"I'm not hungry," she muttered as she quietly walked away. Booker leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath. His actions were causing a rift between him, Elizabeth, and Annabelle. What he did, has not reflected what he intrinsically wanted. There was a dichotomy, a cognitive dissonance between his two incredibly strong desires. Two of which cannot exist in conjunction. He felt the pressure increasing from both ends. The fear of losing his only hope of salvation for his past was starting to slip, as was his relationship with his daughter. He realized it when he gulped down his wine that the maid poured seconds ago, that Elizabeth's grip was not weak; it was his. She would never stop loving her father. He on the other hand, was not so confident. His feelings and thoughts were murky. He stared into his reflection from the vase that sat on the table. In looking into his own eyes, he began to hear screams of pain in his head; Screams of women and children from decades back, at a battle that he took part of. He demanded the maid pour him another drink and that she did. Taking it all in one go, he attempted to quell his thoughts, to drown it all in alcohol. It was a poor choice. The wine exacerbated his thoughts. The visuals of the scalping of husbands and fathers, the crying and sobbing of their loved ones, echoed in his head. All that he did was for the sake of his ego, fueled by of his self-loathing. For his years of service, he was granted shame and regret. The months that came afterward were not kind. Never having actually recovered mentally, he sought a career apart from the armed forces. The excessive violence never seemed to stop, even while working in Massachusetts. He remembered what he did, hurting men who only wanted fairness.

Then came the night that he will never forget – losing the love of his life. He shut his eyes and tried hard to fight the memories that came flooding in. The one deed that encapsulated all of who he was rang loud and clear – selling his daughter and living in regret for 20 years. 'Give me back my daughter!' he remembered. 'Bring us the girl and wipe away the debt.' It echoed in his mind, again and again. All he wanted was to save Elizabeth and correct his past, to give her a new life – the life she deserved. In doing so, they fell in love. He felt responsible for it, even more so now in light of Annabelle. It was wrong deeds, one after another and the blame that he poisoned himself with was toxic. He held out his glass for another refill. It was his 6th one. The seconds passed as the cup remained empty in his hand. He looked over to the hesitant maid whom held the bottle with worry in her eyes. He looked down to her feet and felt that it was time to stop. He did not want to return to his drinking habits again so he grunted, placed his wine cup down and stood up. His emotions were a bit unstable but he felt that there was unfinished business that had to be done. So he made his way out the dining room up toward the stairs. Moments later, he found himself at the closed doorway to Elizabeth's room. For a second, he doubted whether he should talk to her. Looking over to the master bedroom was where Annabelle was and he was sure that there'd be drama in that room. At that point, he realized that either door he took would lead him to a headache. He wanted to just get a good night's sleep but his love for Elizabeth pressed him to correct what he demanded her to do. He wanted to console his daughter and encourage her. He slowly raised his hand and knocked three times. He waited for a response that never came so therefore he took liberty of entering.

As he slowly pushed the door open, it revealed Elizabeth whom had her back toward the door as she was putting on her nightgown. She knew that it was Booker and turned to him, showing her entire figure, cleaned and slightly damp from her bath. Booker's eyes gravitated toward her appetizing body, scanning it as he looked down to her most private parts. He looked back up to Elizabeth's eyes. They were deathly sobering. Any thought of sexual advances died in that instant. He walked over to the armoire, folded his arms, and leaned against it, watching her get dressed. "Are you sure you should be in here, _father_? Elizabeth sarcastically voiced. Her tone was not welcoming. "I _am_ your daughter by blood…" Booker rolled his eyes in annoyance. Elizabeth finally slipped her gown on and sat on her bed. As she proceeded to brush her hair, Booker remembered their sexual encounter several hours ago and inquired her. "Earlier, with me and you. I've never saw you wear that before. Where'd you get it."

"It's called a panty, it's lingerie. I got it from Rapture. I liked it and was saving it for a special occasion… with you," she explained. She suddenly stopped brushing her long hair as the tension was at breaking point. She spoke out, addressing the problem. "Booker…" she muttered. "What are you going to do?" she asked, looking directly into his eyes. She wanted clarity; she wanted him to be decisive. Deep down within her heart, she had hope that he would let go of the past. In his silence, she spoke up again, her tone more stern. "Booker." Being full of frustration, he huffed and decided to give up speaking to her that night and unfolded his arms in an attempt to storm out.

"No, we are going to address this," she declared as she swiftly walked over to him, blocking his path

"Anna, I don't want to talk about it."

"We are. You can't just hide forever."

"I'm not hiding!"

"Yes, you are!" Elizabeth sneered as she place her hand on his chest.

"Not tonight, I'm done. I wanna be rid of this!" he refuted.

"Rid of what? Huh? If you didn't want to talk, then why'd you come in here?" Her voice, now louder and desperate.

"Out of the way," he barked, as he tried to move her with his hand. With a grunt, she took his hand and forcefully shoved it away. "No! Mother is dead!"

"Annabelle is alive!" he argued. "It doesn't matter if she's from another world! What matter is that she's here!"

"I know you! You don't want her because you love her. You're running from your past!" She argued. "Is this where you start moralizing? Did you suddenly forget who you are? Who we are?"

"Move!" He shouted as he tried to push her out of the way. She loudly grunted as she shoved his hand away again.

"Booker, no! You're not leaving this room until you understand!" she shouted.

"What, you think you can tell me what to do?! Are you going to open up a tear somewhere?! You don't scare me Elizabeth!" he yelled.

Elizabeth gasped as she couldn't believe what she had just heard. Her eyes widened for but for a brief moment as they began to tear up. She was in shock. He only called her by that name when they were strangers, and before he saw her as his true love. With no effort to hold them back, they dripped down her check, unto her jaw. She tried to control her breathing before they turned into sobs, but she was losing the battle. "Is that all I am to you?" she whimpered. Booker peered into the eyes of whom he hurt. Her glassy eyes flashed inward pain revealing her aching bleeding heart. "What am I to you, huh? Just Elizabeth? Comstock's daughter that you saved and now I'm some burden?"

She desperately searched his eyes for a glimmer of hope, that he did not mean what he said. His gaze was cold. Her tears began to flow steadily as she turned around and trying to hide her crying. "Last time I checked, I'm also your daughter too." She tried her best to speak but she could not any longer. His words were fire, an arrow that pierced her heart. Feeling sorrowful for what just happened, he wanted to take back what he said, to undo what he just did.

"Anna… I'm sorry," Booker uttered remorsefully. He reached out to her and wanted to lay his hand on her, to ask for forgiveness again but his shame had gripped his heart, preventing him from apologizing.

"Father, J-Just go…" Elizabeth whimpered through her tears.

Booker sighed as he watched his daughter sob in anguish in front of him. He admitted in his heart that everything that night was his doing. He felt helpless as he slowly walked past her, not daring to touch her. Once again, he has done a deed that he has regretted and will remember for the rest of his days. It was his first time hurting her in ways one should never. As he walked out, he turned to look at Elizabeth one last time before he left. The image of his daughter weeping was burned unto his heart that night, just like he branded his hand decades ago. The last time he saw that expression was when they met again after she had been alone six years. He slowly closed her door and froze at the doorway. The feeling of 1000 failed apologies haunted him. The alcohol in his blood diluted his senses and his efforts only worsened her condition. With his hand, he held his face, rubbing it as he gritted his teeth. He could hear her from behind the closed door. Each sob was a knife in to his chest and he could not bear it no longer. He felt unworthy of her love and therefore walked away.

Elizabeth laid on her bed as she gripped her broach tightly in her hands. It was neatly wrapped inside Booker's old red ascot. Her tears continually poured from eyes, creating a puddle on her white pillow. She quietly wept alone in her room, waiting for morning to come, waiting for her sorrow to subside. Though she was beginning to realize the futility of her hope, she wished that he would return to his true love nonetheless. She slowly rubbed her it with her thumb, looking at it and remembering that it was Booker's first choice of a gift for her. The once beautiful memory was now a painful sore. The sting of its remembrance throbbed as her heart ached. She held it close to her chest as she cried louder. With all the effort that she could muster, she resisted her tears and shut her eyes. It would seem that destiny was not kind to the Dewitts. Each road they tread and each choice they made always lead to suffering. Elizabeth felt that were ordained to suffer, destined to never have happiness. As she slowly drifted away, she remembered all their times in Paris. Their house was home to their love. The Seine river held memories of their walks along its banks. The peaceful life she lived was but a dream. The memory of the Parisian sunset at the top of the tower with Booker finally lulled her to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8 - Descent

**Chapter 8**

**Descent **

The night was dark and filled with horrors from grievous mistakes. A haunting broken past and empty promises were all that awaited him. The future seemed bleak. The past was a suffocating shadow that relentlessly pursued. Caught between the past and future; two paths of sin, misery, and darkness, Booker Dewitt would always find himself on his deteriorated bed wallowing in despair. In the loneliness of his own apartment, guilt was his only friend and shame was his acquaintance. They visited more often than not, bringing regret and hopelessness. He suffered and suffered silently, telling not a single soul. The torment he endured for all those years hardened him; solidified his stone heart. He grew numb to the world, its offerings, and distractions. There was only one sliver of help, something that eased the pain temporarily – wine. But it was just an escape from reality; the hand of help that would always demand back what it offered. Drunk and staggering around daily, he found no restitution in its bitter flavor. It was a pattern of self-destruction, a cycle that would never be broken. Until that one fateful night, an opportunity was offered, a chance to make things right one last time. He leaped into it heart abandoned, without consideration of any conditions.

Through it all, the suffering and the despair, he had found hope. But it was not the hope he had expected. His redemption came at a price. Happiness and hope would finally be in his hands, but at the cost of what remained of his morality. He had damned his relationship with the only one he loved. He damned it to be forever reprehensible. He will never have a normal relationship with her, his daughter. No matter the differences, with all the infinite worlds and infinite possibilities, their forbidden relationship was always the outcome. It was as if some singular divine being had preordained the path that he will follow.

"_Give me back my daughter!" _His shouts echoed endlessly in his mind until he had abruptly woken up from his nightmare, yelling under the pressure of a cold sweat and dismay. Instinctively and swiftly, he sprung up and remained there, sitting, orienting his mind. His breathing was burdened from his uneasy rest. With every heavy exhale relief escaped in his breath. The sweat that glistened from his back had brought about goosebumps all along his body. Drops of sweat trickled down his forehead and unto his brow, suggesting him to wipe them. He slowly cupped his face with his hands as he gently rubbed it, his elbow resting on his thighs. He audibly groaned, regaining his composure. It was almost seven in the morning and Booker realized this as he tried to hurry out of bed. He glanced over to his right and found that the space where Annabelle occupied last night was now empty. Wanting to leave, he reached over to his left to pull back his comforter but felt a different texture. His eyes quickly moved over to where his hand laid and saw that someone had already prepared his outfit._ Annabelle? No… Definitely not her._ He picked up the shirt that laid alongside his new trousers. A simple but fine-looking button up white shirt. He glanced over at a certain blue piece of cloth that rested on the black trouser. _Wait a sec… Is that?_ For a quick moment, his heart sank when he thought that he identified the cloth as his ascot, the one he gave to Elizabeth. _Hm, blue… _he smiled, relief in his heart. The nightmare he experienced had him disoriented, not discerning between colors. The fear of Elizabeth losing her love for him was a nagging thought, especially after his actions last night. After placing the shirt down, he grabbed a handful of the ascot and looked deeply at its fabric, thinking about his lover. He brooded as he sat there, regretting what he said to her. _I need to apologize_.

Her love was truly limitless. Even after enduring all that hardships she has faced, her love remained beautiful and pure. His smile faded with a heavy sigh as he thought about Annabelle. He began to doubt his love for her and started to question whether it was real love or an infatuation. There was no question that his daughter loved him with all her heart. But Annabelle, that was another problem all together. He needed to know the truth about her and if she really could provide what he desperately wanted. He couldn't bear to lose either precious hearts – his daughter or his old love. The weight of his neglected problem began to grow. Like a tumor, it started to affect more areas than one. He knew this. His hand squeezed the ascot tightly in response. He shut his eyes, as he searched for the right choice in his heart. His efforts were fruitless, and he impatiently gave up and started to get dressed for the day.

…

The air surrounding the heavenly city was bitter and cold that morning. High up in the air, Elysium would often experience thick clouds that lay beneath the city, spreading out into the horizon. More than a fog, it was as if the city glided amongst the fluffy clouds. The land and ocean below was not visible and will not be for several more hours. It was called 'The City in the Sky' from time to time. The pure dark blue sky above shimmering with stars resembled a deeply colored sapphire. Only a few wisps of clouds floated above them. As the floating islands orbited the city, pouring its water into the sea of clouds below, it painted an image of paradise. The sun was only beginning to reveal its bright haze, coloring the sky around it a soft violet, mixed with blue. The wind was cold yet calm, like a calm before the storm. Elizabeth never liked the cold but there she stood, leaning over the balcony and peering into the fantastic view. Her purple pastel dyed dress danced with every breeze that flew by. The dress she got yesterday matched the morning sky with its pale colors and large eye catching dark blue sash; all completed by being neatly tied into a bow at her side.

The light from the orbs of the floating islands began to slowly fade. One by one, they descended back into the core of the island. Elysium's main city, the orb within the monument's hands was the last light to dwindle._ Like Columbia all over again… Only except this city succeeded where Comstock failed,_ she wondered._ Always a tower, always a man, always a city… But, what about the supposed man? This Elizabeth character seems to be it but, it's a girl,_ she thought to herself as she observed her 'B.D.' branding. _Apparently, it's me. What a twisted turn of events. _She sighed as she could not figure the clues behind it all. She closed her eyes in grief when the letters brought memories of Booker. Suddenly images of her nightmare last night flashed before her eyes. She whimpered as she tried to comfort her temple with her fingers. A headache accompanied the flashes, along with a piercing sharp pain. The horrible vivid dreams she experienced began to play over and over in her mind, increasing in veracity and intensity. Her hands started to tremble and her breathing suddenly became ragged as she was being rapidly sucked into a state of surreal hypnosis; reality distorted by her agonizing dream. Elizabeth's mind started to throb as it was warped to where she was last night.

"_I don't love you Elizabeth!" _she winced as his harsh statement rang deafeningly in her mind. _"I should have left you there in Comstock house." _As much as she tried, she could not fight the fear, the dread that overtook her in that moment. She was in her dream again, and it was vivid as reality itself. She moaned in pain and scrunched her face and held her ears, hoping to muffle her torment. "No, no… Leave me alone. Go away." She groaned as she gritted her teeth. She saw herself, kneeling and begging in a dark and ominous room. Her shouting and screaming became surreal as it echoed in her head. _"Booker! No, Please! Please, just don't go… Booker!" _He was there, standing apart from her, looking down to her as she sobbed. A single lightbulb swung back and forth above, temporarily lighting his scornful expression. He turned and began to walk away from her, holding the hand of someone she knew intimately. As she looked up at the person whom he held, and her heart sank. Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened, taking in what she saw. She gasped in disbelief and stuttered in denial.

"_Y-You! You're not… No… You're not me, you can't be me!" _she desperately shouted_. "B-Booker loves me, not you! You're not Anna!" _She yelled at the shadowy feminine silhouette whom bore her exact figure. As they slowly turned around, the lightbulb had abated its swinging and gradually illuminated the person, revealing her to be Elizabeth, a memory of who she once was. Her eyes were dark, wicked, and void of love. Her clothes were that from Columbia, when they first met. Her hair was slightly shorter and tied with a bow. She held Booker's hand and spoke at Elizabeth in utter contempt with a malicious grin. _"Father doesn't love you, Elizabeth. Father loves me. I am who he always wanted – Anna," _she said as the lightbulb flickered. _"You did this, Elizabeth. You made him sin. You led him into temptation. You're a murderer – a twisted, sick, manipulative murderer!"_

"No. That's not true! Booker loves me!" She audibly voiced, upon the balcony. She grimaced as she held her head, shaking it in denial. "I'm not Elizabeth… I said not Elizabeth!" she cried. "Go away. Can't you just leave me alone!" Her voice became louder and evident of internal torment. Before she could descend further into her spell, Lonnie called out from the balcony doorway. "Mrs. Elizabeth! It's alright! Mrs. Elizabeth! Get a hold of yourself!" he urgently said as he approached. Elizabeth gasped as she flashed opened her eyes, breaking free from the grip of her trance. Her footing was unsteady and thus, she lost her balance. Elizabeth started to tip over the railing, her back to the sky and her eyes now facing a 75-meter drop. As she instantly realized death was surely waiting for her below, she let out a feeble scream. Luckily, Lonnie was near and he reached out and grabbed her arm. He pulled her in quickly, saving her from her fall. She was panting in fear, distress, and psychological pain. He slowly sat her down with her back against the stone railing. Adrenaline was pumping throughout her body, sending tingling sensations from head to toe. She tried to catch her breath as she attempted to calmed down. As he kneeled, he laid his hands on her shoulders to hold her, preventing her from collapsing to the floor.

In his compassion, he softly spoke, "My dear Elizabeth, don't fall into despair." She was flashing in and out of her daze, hardly discerning reality from dream. She attempted to understand his words and reply but could not articulate anything coherent. "W-What? I… I think…" She mumbled. He gently opened her eye with his thumb to examine her, one after the other. They were dilated and laden with anxiety. Lonnie was more than just the head butler. His intellect was broad and he dabbled in the medical field somewhat. He lent what he knew about the body and mind. "You're starting your descent into madness," he said, full of concern. As her breathing returned to normal, she slowly started to regain her senses. "It is as I feared… Time is repeating itself again."

"Misses!" The maid called out as she hurried to Elizabeth from the doorway. She had heard her in distress from inside when she was conversing with Lonnie. Luckily, he made his way to Elizabeth before she could hurt herself, or worst yet, fall from the balcony. She quickly kneeled down to Elizabeth and attended to her. "I'm alright," Elizabeth quietly uttered.

"Okay. Let's get you up," Lonnie said as they helped her stand to her feet. The maid proceeded to brush the dust off of Elizabeth's dress from top down. "Thank you…" she said, beneath her breath.

"Mrs. Elizabeth – Anna… can you stand?" He asked. She nodded in agreement as she grasped her left arm. "You almost fell. You're going to need some rest. You couldn't sleep at all last night, could you?" She shook her head, confirming what he asked.

"Listen to me. I cannot be here for long but I will help as much as I can," he said. "Whatever you do, don't let him out of your sight. Things are going to get worse from here on out."

"And if I do? If I have another one of these… episodes, what then? It's just going to happen all the same, isn't it?" She asked, her voice still weak. His silence and grim expression revealed it all to her. She knew in that moment, there will be changes that happen that are beyond her control. Her solemn gaze turned toward her side as she realized her worst fears might come to pass. Lonnie looked over to the maid and softly spoke to her, "My little songbird, Camille, stay near Master Dewitt at all costs, protect him." She nodded in reply to his instruction. "Use your djinn if you must."

Elizabeth glanced over when she heard something that piqued her curiosity. _Constants and variables, _she thought. Lonnie then turned to her and spoke, "When the time comes, make your way to the Museum of History, down on 23rd street in the memorial district. You simply cannot miss it." He then swiftly turned his back and walked inside. "I must speak with him."

Camille offered to escort her to her room to rest however, she denied her helping hand and insisted that her condition has returned to normal. She cleared her throat and walked inside with Booker's room as the destination; she needed to speak with Annabelle. As she walked along the hallways, she noticed Annabelle had just exited Booker's room. She paused her stride and waited as she got closer. Without pay any mind to Elizabeth, she glided past without even a hint of a good morning greeting. Elizabeth's eyes followed her brisk pace as she breezed past. "Annabe…" She muttered. Remembering what Booker demanded, she corrected herself. "Mother, where did you go this morning?" she asked, hiding her disdain as she spoke. Annabelle stopped and paused for a moment before she turned around to Elizabeth to answer. "Please, just call me Annabelle," she politely nodded, before continuing her walk. Elizabeth raised her eyebrow in suspicion when she found it odd that Annabelle would suddenly appear cold, empty of motherly affection. "Annabelle, wait," she insisted as she started to follow her.

…

Booker stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his shirt and rolling up his sleeves; he never liked anything around his wrists. He finished his last button, leaving the top three open. His pectorals were peeking through the opening. He liked it that way. Elizabeth was very fashionable and clearly, she had chosen an outfit that suited him perfectly. He wrapped his new blue ascot around his shirt collar and started to tie it but his concentration was broken when he heard a knock on the door. "Pardon the intrusion," Lonnie said as he entered immediately. "A little busy here," Booker automatically responded. There was no one in the mansion that would knock aside from the mansion keep. He looked over to the door as he noticed that Lonnie had entered regardless.

"Master Dewitt… I've come to speak with you."

"What's this about?" Booker asked.

"If I may – Your daughter."

With a groan he replied, "Not right now."

"Frankly speaking, your indecision is beginning to endanger her."

"Wait, what do you mean?" he asked with urgency in his voice. "Is she alright? Where is she?"

"She's is fine, quite well actually. As a matter of fact, she is working hard on deciphering the city's secrets, to find the truth behind Annabelle and Evelyn."

"And what does my wife have anything to do with this?"

"Everything, my boy. She is the key," the eccentric man replied.

"She doesn't need to be in our affairs."

"I wasn't talking about – _her_…"

"Alright, look. I'm not going to pretend I know what's going on but I think I got a good handle on things. You've helped me back in Paris and I'm grateful. But I'll take it from here."

"Is that what you believe? How is she? Do you know?"

"What are you getting at?" He sneered. Booker's frustration was beginning to show. As of meeting Annabelle again, his temper was shorter than usual. Quick to snap at anyone who irritated him, Lonnie was no exception. In his annoyance he asked Lonnie to leave it all to him and not to interfere. Lonnie obliged. "As you wish. I'm afraid the time has come for you to decide. I cannot be here during the celebration however; I wish you the very best." He said as he turned to leave. "For all of our sakes."

…

Earlier that morning…

The crisp temperature of the dark morning was cold; enough to cast frost and fog on all the windows within Elysium. The sun had not risen yet and the stars were still visible in the sky. There was no one in sight and no one awake to entertain any guests. The streets were bare with the exception one woman whom stood at the City Center's fountain. She seemed to waiting for another person to arrive. The lady, dressed in a cloak, and hiding under the cover or night, waited patiently for her appointed rendezvous. As surely as the sun that sets each day, her guest arrived on time. The light from the orb revealed her to be Annabelle. She was not concealed nor did she try to be. The lady lifted back the cloak that hid her face. Auburn hair, beautiful eyes, and a gorgeous smile; those features once tempted Booker.

"You've made it," Evelyn spoke, serious in her demeanor.

"You were right. That isn't my husband. And that isn't my daughter. What happened to them?" Annabelle asked.

"Like you said, that isn't your family. But I can get you to them. I know where your true family is. But you must do one thing for me. I saved you in Paris. It's time to return the favor."

"Favor?" Annabelle cautiously questioned.

"You must be utterly affectionate to Booker during the announcement. Elizabeth will see and she will be in distress. Booker will then come to me. I have unfinished business to take care of."

"Elizabeth?"

"The girl…" Evelyn corrected.

"How do you know this?"

"Because she has. And because she will. I've seen it. Now, remember… Affection. I would do it myself but I cannot get anywhere near that place, not with that little scamp of a servant running around."

"You'll take me to my husband and daughter after? We were in New York. I don't understand what happened," she fretted. "I thought it was them when I saw them. But they are different."

"Don't worry. Everything will fall into place. It always does," Evelyn grinned.

Annabelle understood that their arrangement was of the utmost importance, and that their meeting was highly conspicuous. So therefore, she hastily agreed and parted from their interaction to make her way back to the mansion, hoping to return unnoticed. Annabelle wasn't very clever and not one versed in doing wrong; she failed to pull it off. Little did she know, Elizabeth was on the mansion balcony, her watchful eyes following Annabelle's every step. Although the City Center's fountain was far away, Elizabeth was able to identify that it was Evelyn whom met with Annabelle. Annabelle reached the doors of the mansion and opened them, only to find Camille and Lonnie present at the foyer. They both lowered their heads but only out of respect and to conceal their true nature. Camille and Lonnie remained silent in their greeting. Their faces – unwelcoming.

* * *

**I want to thank you all for reading up to this point. I have been very busy as of late. Pumping out chapters one after another is a difficult task especially when you have a family and responsibilities to attend to. But I am committed to finishing my series, you guys deserve it. I have already started fleshing out the next chapter. Stay tuned.**

**As always, please leave a review. **


	9. Chapter 9 - It begins

**Chapter 9**

**It begins**

As noon crept near, the hustle and bustle of the city was at near maximum. Around every corner was music and behind every door was a happy person, whom was part of a happy family. The festivities livened the already busy city. Along with the commodities and merchandise being sold on every street, numerous people had set up stalls to sell their own handmade odds and ends, all souvenirs. The noise filled busy street was seemingly surpassed by the music of a marching band as they blared around, followed closely by a glamourous parade. They were making their way around the crowded districts. Festivities which were normally reserved for late afternoon or evening, started early that morning; Elysium was already stirring at the crack of dawn. Citizens of Elysium certainly knew how to party and have fun in the midst of their gloom. Elizabeth had arrived just in time, and exactly as prophesized by the Booker of that city. He was their leader, their righteous and kind president whom selflessly led its people into prosperity. Through his words, the denizens believed and had faith that their beloved city would not fall when the time came. They trusted him then as they do now, despite the peculiar fact that not one has ever seen his face.

By his promise of deliverance and revelation of redemption, the people that day celebrated the arrival of the messiah, the one whom will deliver the city unto salvation. With his new message of the messiah's arrival, people have abandoned all fear and brought out their prized djinn; mystical wispy creatures welding different abilities and powers. Truthfully, these djinn were always are part of them. Rather than bring them out as one would do with material possessions, these people freely allowed these creatures to show themselves. For years, people have stowed away their djinn within their bodies, never showing or using their powers. Fear that usage of such powers would disrupt the delicate balance on which the city hinged on. Several years ago Booker Dewitt of Elysium delivered a stern warning that all any and all use of djinn would eventually destroy their city. The summit on which they built their city was no crater, their mountain was no volcano. Their destruction would not come by fire and brimstone but by an outside force.

For powers to be used, there must be a source that feeds that power. Djinn, magic-like creatures that naturally inhabit the mountain draw their strength from its innermost core deep underground. Down beneath the rocky layers lies a wealth of concentrated transmogrified ADAM. Different than the ADAM found in sea slugs or the ones growing in little girls; It is a naturally occurring resource that never depletes and replenishes itself indefinitely. Unlike EVE and SALTS, the energy source present there was harmless, benign. It was also pure so there was no need to refine it. The people there understood this once they have discovered its existence. They called it – Sap.

Named for its oozing properties, deposits could be found all along the mountain's slope, dripping from crevices and cracks in the bedrock. For those who have one djinn, or possibly more, consumption of it was unnecessary. The djinn themselves feed on it.

On the day of Oct 8th 1919, the day of the grand ceremony, these creatures once again materialized outside of their hosts, ecstatic as they are free to do as they please. Men and women displayed their djinn on their shoulders. Others allowed them to hover around their bodies like hummingbirds. Docile and gentile creatures that were absolutely loyal to their masters, they followed their human around and did their bidding without reservation. Some borrowed their powers for mundane day to day tasks, others for business and livelihood. There were a few who keep them merely as pets. On that day, there were a specific few belonging to the parade whom released their djinn to perform tricks during the celebration. Streams of bright flames slithered through the air as one user demonstrated. Another had put on a magnificent display of roses that appeared from thin air, twirling them and flinging them around for all to see.

There was a sudden burst, an explosion beautifying the morning sky. One after another – fireworks. Also not typical to start during the day along with parades, that day was an exception. From the glorious array of colors that seemingly blanketed the sky, millions upon millions of confetti rained down on the city, coloring and the already decorated city center. The display lasted for a majority of an hour. Noon was near. Golden trumpets about a dozen or so, as large as a person itself, slowly raised its bell piece to sky. City officials started to gather behind its mouth pieces in preparation for the opening song.

As sudden as the fireworks that had started, loud fanfare blared from the city's center, signaling that it was time. The sound could be heard from within the mansion. Booker, who was sitting in his private study room, tapped his fingers on the wooden desk contemplating about Elizabeth. Important papers laid about chaotically. The Booker of Elysium was a busy man judging from all piles of paper. Unfazed by the trumpets outside, he studied the photos that stood on the desk. Several of them were of Elysium's Booker and Lonnie proudly standing together next to some large machines. Lonnie was truly a lettuce by heart. It would seem that the contraptions in the pictures were all created by him, and all sanctioned and funded by Booker. A couple thoughts crossed his mind. Did this Lutece create any tear device? How was he able to disappear and reappear from one city to another? He also wondered where that version of him was, if the Elizabeth that he married was anything like his own. And lastly, he pondered Elysium's Annabelle, and if she had passed away like his own. Being in solitude tended to distort his brain in ways that eventually led him to drink, if he had the chance. All of this made no sense to Booker, so he started to think about more urgent matters. He pulled out a photograph that he took from the living room he was once in. His head rested on his palm as he questioned the possibility of a happy future with the ones he loved. His thoughts wandered to his wife whom was actually standing in the doorway, without his knowledge. Still unsure and burdened by the pressure of choice, he sighed. Finally aware of her presence, his eyes shot up at the feminine figure he knew well and he smiled. His gaze followed her as she quietly walked over to where he was. Her countenance brightened when she noticed what he was in his hand.

Without saying a word, she expressed her happiness through a soft smile. That tender smile that Booker once loved deeply once again opened the doors of his heart to her. She carefully caressed his stubble jaw as she looked deep into his green eyes. "Annabelle," he mumbled, closing his eyes under the crushing weight of her comfort. Surprised, he flashed opened his eyes when he realized that she had plopped her soft thighs on his lap, her side now resting on his chest. In light of her affection, Booker's hard shall started to melt, and he began to forget all of the stress that plagued his heart. His first love was sitting where she once did decades ago, and his emotions from long past begun to wash over him like a flood. Elizabeth was nowhere to be found on his mind, all thanks to Annabelle's overshadowing presence. His inhibitions began to fade as he slid his hand up past her knee. His other hand supported her small frame. With a soft squeeze, he gripped her tiny waist. He was no stranger to her curves, her petite figure. The familiarity of her feminine body was comforting and sweet. They smiled at each other as they shared a sincere gaze. They were lost in their moment. The past 24 hours were busy and quite taxing on him. Last night was no exception. Though they shared the same bed intimately, they traded no kisses or gestures of love. He wanted to pay a debt of affection that he owed for all those years without her and in that moment, he wanted to make up all the lost time. All the cares of the world started to dwindle as intentions of love making started to sprout in his heart. She truly was not the same Annabelle he once knew but it was all the same to him. Her looks, her body, and her personality; they were remarkably similar. He could not resist but be drawn back to his first desire.

But before he could continue, he noticed someone from the corner of his eye. Elizabeth was standing solemnly with her arms wrapped around body, peering into the room. As her sudden appearance broke his concentration, he looked at her with surprise written all over his face, but offered no words. Her expression was neither angry nor hateful but full of disappointment and sorrow. Disheartened from what she saw, Elizabeth shut her eyes from the painful sight and continued walking down the hall. With no motivation left to get in between them, she simply gave up any attempt at words. Elizabeth felt that it was meaningless at that point, useless and hopeless. Booker eyes now laden with shame wandered away from the doorway, away from Annabelle. His inhibitions promptly returned and his heart again began to sink in a pit of guilt and regret as he remembered the genuine heart that cried out for him. He was reminded of what he did to her yesterday, his harsh words tolled like a bell endlessly in his mind.

Camille whom stood on standby outside the room, looked with compassionate eyes as Elizabeth strolled away with her head hung low in defeat. Her heart began to ache at the sight of woman betrayed. She watched as Elizabeth wiped her eye, hinting of tears that had fallen. Much of what she saw brought not too distant memories of pain back. Therefore, she sympathized. Moved by what she saw, she decided to take action and stood herself in the doorway, addressing her master without being called. "Master, it is time. Please follow me." She blatantly interrupted their sweet moment and was glad that she did.

Without much hesitation, he signaled that it was time for the big announcement by lightly tapping her waist. And within moments, they separated from each other and followed Camille as she led them to the upper level in preparation. Lonnie was not present to attend the announcement. It was only Camille who would be accompanying their presentation, the presentation of their messiah. When they arrived at the balcony doors, they paused and waited for several more minutes. Elizabeth was there, waiting as she leaned on the railing whilst staring out the glass stained balcony doors. She slowly glanced at Booker with sorrow in her puffy eyes. With lips pursed from her dismay, she lowered her eye lids and blankly stared at the carpet beneath her feet. He responded contradictory to what he truly wanted; to pull her in and deeply embrace her. All he showed was uncertainty and shame through his eyes and offered no affection. He was so close yet so far and knowing this destroyed Elizabeth. He knew how she felt, nevertheless he remained emotionally stiff. Annabelle squinted her eyes at her, returning the same disdain she received from her last night. The silence was awkward and heavy so he attempted to ease the tension, seconds before they were supposed to show themselves to the city. Booker knew nothing of what to speak about and looked to Camille and asked, "What am I supposed to say?" Surprised by his question, she answered, "Master, you were the one who planned this. Did you forget?" Booker was silent in his response to her question. He had decided that he was going to improvise like he had always done. Presenting Elizabeth sounded fairly easy to him and he was confident with what he wanted to say. Though he may not seem the type, he had the qualities of a leader in him as previously shown by leading Elysium in one life and leading the Vox Populi revolution in another. "May I suggest you speak to Mr. Lonnie about your memory and bleeding?" She commented.

"Bleeding?" he curiously questioned. Not once since their time in Columbia had he experienced bleeding of any sort. Their short time in Paris when things were falling apart proved challenging but nevertheless, he was not hurt. Certainly, he has seen his fair share of battles and knows not to let himself get too wounded in the process. Judging her tone of voice, he assumed that it must be from sustaining a serious injury. As he searched for the meaning behind her statement, she interrupted his thoughts and answered before he could figure it out, "From your nose, master." He furrowed his brows like one would from being accused of wrong doing. Slightly confused but more taken aback, he pondered, _I hadn't had any nosebleeds since Columbia._ "I never caught your name," he asked, finally taking interest in who she was as a person. "Camille Dumas…" she timidly replied, assuming he was experiencing another memory loss spell. "It is what Mr. Lonnie named me."

"Camille huh? Listen, I'm not who you think I am…" he tried to explain. "This Booker… The one you know. I ain't him."

His startling response had Camille quite confused. She stood motionless in bewilderment as she tried to decipher what her master meant. As she searched her memory bank of any clues that could shed light on his ambiguous statement, he continued, "I got a good idea of what I want to say but can I count of you if I need help?" She obediently nodded since she understood that questioning things was not her place. It was a trait that she learned from her past before she had met Lonnie. Elizabeth listened intently but remained silent in her deposition. She was too occupied of what was before her.

The noon bell tolled loudly, signaling that it was time. Chimes resonated throughout the city from a chapel that was nearby. Slowly, one by one everyone lowered their voices and brought their activities to a stop. The bell rang one last time in the completely silent city, its note echoing loudly. Camille opened the doors of the balcony and exited first, bidding them to follow as she stood and slightly bowed. "Moment of truth…," Elizabeth mumbled beneath her breath. "Paris, or New York…" With a sorrowful grin, she scoffed. It was how it was before, when they were aboard the First Lady in Finkton. She remembered that day all too well. Before Booker could take his first step, Annabelle locked her arm with his and offered a gentle and content expression. Her smile brightened his gloomy face and they began to walk out together. Elizabeth followed and stood next to the door alongside Camille.

Booker and Annabelle now stood before the stone railing, hand in hand. They were greeted with a thunderous applause that was accompanied by loud cheering from below. It was the first time that anyone in that city has ever seen him. _As I thought,_ she regrettably confirmed. The very image of Booker's hands in someone else's aside from hers suddenly sent a shockwave of pain from her head down to her feet. _No, not again…_ A sharp sensation buzzed where her temple was, tingling its way down her spine. As he looked over to Annabelle with the same loving eyes that he once gave her, Elizabeth's breath escaped her. She grimaced from the sight and held her head with her hand as she tried to balance herself with the other, reaching for the door. She could not believe it was over. Everything that she worked for was gone in a night. Her heart and mind could not fathom how it came to be and so soon. Her love was indestructible, she thought. Her mind was racing from the dizzying thoughts and her heart pounded rapidly as it tried to prevent her spirit from failing. Her efforts could not help as her condition started swiftly worsening. "Misses?" Camille worriedly called. Her voice came as a muffled note to Elizabeth's ears. Her vision began to haze as she started to fade in and out. She leaned on the door for support however, her strength was waning. She scrunched her face and whimpered in distress as she struggled to stand. Her headache was now a throbbing and unbearable pain. She denied it again and again in her mind, desperately trying to believe that it as just a dream, a nightmare that she was hoping would pass. Her breathing labored and her eyes foggy, she reached out for him, wishing he would come to her rescue. Her legs beneath her started to buckle under weight as they lost the will to carry her. With the last of her strength, she cried for him but only a feeble whimper escaped. In her despairing moment, she collapsed to the floor, shutting her eyes from the world.

Camille desperately tried to catch her but unfortunately, her hands were an arm's reach away. With a loud thud, her body smacked against the stone tiles of the balcony. "Misses!" she frantically called as she kneeled by her sprawled body. The noise stole Booker's attention from Annabelle as he quickly glanced over to Elizabeth. His eyes widened, taking in what he thought would never happen in his life. All the memories of his time with her, his love for her, flashed before his very eyes. His heart dropped and his jaw hung as she laid there, seemingly lifeless. Immediately admitting in his mind that he was too caught up with Annabelle's return, he became apologetic and regretful. Forgetting that Annabelle was there, he raced over to his true love, shouting her name. "Anna!" he cried as he ran, almost tripping over himself. As he stumbled toward, he loudly muttered, "No, no, no!" Struck with denial as he searched her body from afar for any hints of life, he shouted again, "Anna!" Booker quickly kneeled by her side and slid his arm under her neck as he attempted to raise her torso up. Her head drooped over his arm and her arms dangled to the floor. With his other hand, he shook her belly, anxiously hoping that she would open her eyes. "C'mon wake up. Baby. C'mon. I'm sorry!" he muttered in desperation as he lightly tapped her cheek. He called her name again and louder with each attempt, but his efforts proved meaningless as she laid limp in his arms. He laid his finger on her throat, trying to pick up any signs of life. He felt no pulse and immediately tried again, pressing his fingers deeper. Finally, he felt a slow rhythm beat beneath his fingers. However, the pulse he felt was weak. For the first time since years ago, his eyes watered. He gently placed his hand on her lower belly, and with a trembling voice he apologized, "Anna, I am so sorry… I am not going to lose both of you." With determination he gently laid her body down hastily stood to his feet. His past experiences urged him to find help and fast, that he had no time to be in shock. "Where is the doctor?" he demanded as he looked to Camille for an answer."

She too stood to her feet and promptly replied, "It's on liberty street in the Avenue of Fidelities, it's not far. I'll show you the way. Follow me, master." They quickly exited the balcony. Without looking back, Booker shouted instructions to Annabelle, "Watch Anna! Make sure she's okay. We'll be back in a minute!" The maid pinched her dress, slightly lifting it up as she scampered down the stairs with haste. He followed closely behind as he stomped down the steps. "Where's that Lonnie guy when you need him?" he blurted as they jogged their way to the front door. Camille looked to Booker from the corner of her eye and offered no response. She knew that only until recently Lonnie would disappear from the mansion to do business, as he had explained to her. He several weeks ago, he mentioned to her that he had business in Paris to take care of. Off he would go and return just as quickly, never touching the front door. Camille had an idea as to why his odd behavior was occurring more frequently but could never quite figure it out. He was always a strange man, but as of late, he was acting not himself; disappearing more often and for longer durations. For young girl, she was beginning to put the pieces together. Her master – Booker, leaving and coming back a completely different man was a clue out of many. The absence of his sickness and nose hemorrhages was the final hint that she needed. As they bolt passed the front doors, Elizabeth lips started to move and struggle to form words. A part of her pulled her consciousness back to reality before her body was ready. A deep and undying feeling that was so strong, it writhed in the void until her mind shook itself awake. It could not be apart from what it wanted and needed. She groaned in agony as her head was still pulsating with a piercing pain. Through her daze she murmured, "B-Booker… Booker." Although unable to move a single muscle she pushed herself, fighting through the pain and the numbness. Her eyelids raised halfway, only to find Annabelle at her side. "No, it's me, Annabelle," she said, with her hand on her chest. "Are you alright?" she asked.

"I'm fine…" Elizabeth moaned as she struggled to get set up. Annabelle held her hand, offering to help her up. Through her exhaustion, she growled and denied her assistance, yanking her hand away. "I said, I'm…" Before the last word could leave her mouth, she fell back to floor and sank back again into the state of unconsciousness. She overexerted herself trying to do what she wanted. Her father's blood coursed through her veins; she was undeniably his. His stubbornness was also hers; always fighting against the flow. Incapable of staying awake, her lungs vented its air as she returned to her shallow breathing. Annabelle looked at the limp body laying before her and remembered what Evelyn instructed her to do before she arrived to Elysium. _'There will come the time for when you must use this. If you see the chance, take it.' _She second guessed Evelyn's words. It was not in her nature to follow through with such a wicked plan. She hesitated for a moment but remembered also what was at stake, her true family. From a hidden pocket in her dress, she carefully extracted a sharp pair of scissors and looked at the evil potential laying in her hands. Her hands began to tremble as she realized what she must do. The thought of committing a murderous crime instilled fear in her. Adrenaline raced through her body, causing her to sweat and quiver. _'Why the scissors?' _she remembered asking Evelyn. _'History and time is painfully ironic…'_ With the remembrance of Evelyn's last words, she mustered up the courage she needed and gripped the scissors with both hands. She looked at the vulnerable body that was ready to be seized. It was her chance and she was determined to see her real family once again. With her shaky hands, she raised them above Elizabeth's chest. "I-I'm sorry child. But you are not mine."

…

"Up to no good now, are we?" Rosalind interrupted.

"A poor choice for one held with such high esteem," Robert stated.

Startled, Annabelle instinctively dropped the pair of scissors and gasped from the sudden voices coming from behind. She immediately turned to see who they were, only to discover that they were strangers; the two persons whom Evelyn warned her about. Caught in the heinous act, her jaw hung as she did not know how to respond. In a panic, she clumsily stood to her feet while she stared at both of them. Her instincts urged her to run and quickly, she turned her back and bolted away.

"And so it begins…" Robert said, watching as Annabelle disappeared into the mansion.

"As it has before…" Rosalind added as she kneeled beside Elizabeth, checking her forehead temperature with her palm.

"It would seem that they have both forgotten the different perspectives."

"As if it was _all_ for naught," she confirmed, standing to her feet. "I've made it very clear that I don't believe in this exercise."

"And yet, here we are. For the 77th time," Robert rebutted.

"It took him 123 tries to rescue the girl," she added.

"And now it's her turn to do the rescuing," he stated.

"I truly hope you're right, brother... Perhaps, this will be the last."


	10. Chapter 10 - Deja Vu

**Chapter 10**

**Deja Vu**

Shook by the violent crashing of the chapel bell smashing the ground, Elizabeth's body jolted out of her unconscious state. She slowly dragged open her eyes only to be greeted by a hazy mixture of cool and warm colors. Blurry black streams were accompanied by grey and orange, all painting a blue sky. She could not make out clearly what she was seeing, let alone gather the strength to reorient herself. _Where am I…_ _Booker?_ she thought. Elizabeth closed her eyes from the bright world and instead, chose to focus her energy on getting her head in order. The pounding migraine that she endured was only a fraction of what it was – a dull headache, but still bothersome nonethelss. She softly pressed her palm against her temple to find comfort through the confusion and numbness. As she carefully sat up, she opened her eyes again and to her bafflement, plums of smoke stretched to the skies from the buildings below. "W-What…?" she slurred. As she tried to understand what was going on. Her vision was still blurry, so she blinked several times to clear them. She saw large aircraft hovering in the distance. Her irises were still trying to focus, blurring all other details but she identified them nevertheless. When she eventually stood to her feet and when her eyes finally returned to normal, she gasped in horror. Numerous billows of smoke and fire was littered the grand city. Explosions ignited from random parts, all releasing noxious clouds to the air. Elysium was under attack; it was happening before her very eyes. She slowly walked toward the balcony railing and with each step she took, the awful scenery got worse. Screams of women and children could be heard from where she stood. Quickly, she looked down and saw people dressed in raggedy clothes running about while proudly donning red scarves and bandanas. Their demeanor was aggressive and violent. The peaceful men and women of that city were being mercilessly slaughtered, not even the children were spared. The citizens were not the warring type, unfortunately, they had no form of defense against the invaders. Some of the men attempted to fight back with fists and their djinn, but they met their demise at the hands of the vile foreigners. They stood no ground against the guns and bullets. All done without remorse. Some were hit with explosives, killing them instantly and splattering their remains on the street and nearby walls. Women whom ran to their murdered husbands were brutally killed. Some died by a quick death; a slice to the throat. Others were not so lucky as many of them were being dragged by their hair into buildings. Those wicked men had different plans for them, none of which was good. The children cried and screamed for their parents, but they were answered with beatings by mobs. Ear piercing screams of horror echoed through the streets but most of harrowing shrills were drowned out by the blimp's cannon fire and guns.

"Oh my god!" Elizabeth gasped, taking in the terror being laid in the streets. "The Sanctus Domini claim this city!" shouted the few who stood atop the roof of a nearby building. Elizabeth heard yelling from close by and looked over to the rooftop. They seemed to be working together, hauling a large banner. There was something strange about them, something odd. Elizabeth squinted to study their details. Their clothing was from this decade however, it was too familiar. Some were colored and some were of mixed race. Like the armed forces, each of them sported bright red pieces of cloth. Some tied it around their arm and others wore it on their heads. The ones Elizabeth saw strung it around their necks. They were excited, angry, and somewhat crazed. Their psychotic behavior was the hint that reminded Elizabeth of some particularly certain lunatics she met long ago. Their skin was peeling and bubbling with cysts. Their faces and bodies were deformed and distorted, hardly resembling a human. Most of them were bloody from the killings but fortunately Elizabeth was able to make out who they were.

"Splicers? Wait… No these people are from Finkton! But… How?" she questioned. What they did next took Elizabeth by surprise. Two of the men draped the large bright red banner down the building while another fired his gun aimlessly to the sky and viciously cheered. The banner displayed man victoriously holding his fist it the air. It portrayed a man winning a battle. As she took notice of it, she read what it said. "The Sanctus Domini claim this city…" she quietly muttered as she tried to conceive who they were. "W-What? That's what that Anya character was talking about… But this was back in Paris. How did…" she deducted aloud. "Evelyn! Has to be…" Without seeing all the doors and what was behind all the doors, she had to unravel the puzzle by her understanding alone. All the events that took place were clues to what was behind the shroud that blanketed her vision. The mystery was unfolding and she begun to understood who was behind it all and what was the ultimate goal. Knowing what was going to happen, Elizabeth started to worry about Booker and his well-being. Elysium was no longer safe with the streets being filled with danger. She knew he could handle his own but her love for him kept her heart in a worrisome state. In that moment, she decided to venture down to the deadly streets to look for him. Without much consideration to her health she started to plan and think. She was determined to find him despite her health not being up to par. _Booker… where are you?_ She pondered as she watched the destruction and violence taking place. Explosions from the cannon fire filled her ears like the fireworks did several hours ago. Each explosion distracted her from thinking clearly. _If I know you, I'd say you went looking for help – A doctor…_ All of the meaningless death that occurred all over the city urged her make haste and find him. She knew she would never stop blaming herself if he was caught in the crossfire. Booker was the only thing that mattered to her at that moment. Elizabeth swiftly turned to make her way out of the mansion but when she did, a certain creature caught her attention, halting her steps. It sat on the ground looking upwards to her. Small, blue, and reptilian like, it was no larger than an apple. The odd creature tilted its head in curiosity as if it had never seen a human before. Quiet chirps and trills from its tiny mouth as it tried to communicate its thoughts. "Hey, you…" Elizabeth delightfully said with a shy smile. Although appreciative of cute animals and objects, she was not one to be easily distracted. Her father was likewise but between Booker and her, she was the one with the dead-set determination that not even he could measure up to. And in this moment, nothing was more important than Booker. Her gaze shifted back to the balcony doors but before she could take another step, the creature flew up and hovered eye level to her.

"It has finally picked its master…" said a voice from behind Elizabeth. His voice was very distinct and she immediately knew it was Lonnie. By now, she was used to his and the Luteces antics of always appearing out of thin air; she didn't bother to look back. The creature showed great interest in Elizabeth, cheerfully chirping as it studied her face, trying to familiarize itself with her appearance. She carefully raised her hand, offering it as a resting place, and it gladly sat on her index finger. "And what are you supposed to be?" Elizabeth asked, curiously. Lonnie answered as he stood beside her, "A djinn, a very picky one at that, and a particular djinn that does not like to dematerialize into their hosts."

"What's a djinn?"

"You can view them as magic like creatures that provide – powers… So to speak," he vaguely replied.

"So this must be some form of vigor unique to this world…"

"I beg your pardon?" he asked.

"It's nothing," Elizabeth half-heartedly answered. She was occupied with djinn that was flying circles around her hand. Seconds later, the djinn started to sparkle and glow as it slowly transformed itself into something entirely different. She opened her palm as it descended onto it, revealing what it had become – a blue ribbon.

"I-It turned into a hair ribbon…" she muttered. "The same one I wore that day in Columbia…"

"Interesting… I've never seen it do that before. I've never seen any djinn do that," he said. "Typically, they just merge with the hosts."

Memories of her Columbia days returned to her with great sadness. That which was once fond memories were now sad reminders of days gone by. She cupped her hands and felt its velvety texture; it was exactly as how she remembered. No feeling nor any other day reminded her of her accessory like the day she cut her hair aboard the First Lady. She remembered grasping it tightly in her hand as tightly as she held on to her fleeting innocence that day. Its soft touch was comforting to her as she slid one of its ends between her thumb and index. Her face drooped from feeling disappointed, sad of how things have turned out in Columbia that eventually led to this day. Surprisingly, the djinn started to float once again and untied itself. Elizabeth watched in amazement as it spun and weaved around. Then suddenly, it flew behind her head and tied itself into a neat bow around her hair. Surprised and delighted, she reached back and softly patted her djinn– her new ribbon. Strange feelings of energy and health coursed from her toes up her body. She felt awake and no longer weak. The tingling sensation worked its way to her chest, empowering it as it moved up. She closed her eyes and withdrew a deep breath into her now refreshed lungs.

"I feel, better…" she said, with a genuine smile. Her headache was no more and her vision became sharp. It seemed that her senses had returned to her and she was able to think clearly once again.

"I never knew what benefits that djinn had until now. It appears that djinn has supportive properties," he said. "Hmm, quite rare. And it read your heart. Perhaps, that is why it chose you." Elizabeth smiled with contentment and her appearance was beaming with confidence. She felt like it has been years since she last smiled. Her determination higher than it was before.

A couple of the zeppelins that were circling the Welcome Center had departed from their holding pattern and started to fly toward the monument. With her new sharper senses, she turned and widened her eyes as she realized what they were targeting – the monument. She quickly spun and looked up to the pristine and golden structure towering proudly to the sky amidst the chaos. "It is time," Lonnie somberly stated. "My dear, I am afraid this will be the last time I can help. You must go quickly. You will find him in the Avenue of Fidelities."

"Will you come back?" she asked.

"Not until the balance is restored…" he regrettably answered. "When the time comes, I beg you. Make the right choice."

She nodded and turned her back made toward to the door.

"One more thing if I may add," Lonnie blurted. His expression was suddenly troubled. "Take care of my little Camille." There was sadness in his voice. Elizabeth nodded once again and hurriedly walked, her pace was quick as she knew her destination. Before she could exit the balcony, a flashing shimmer of light on the ground caught her eye. She glanced down and noticed a pair of scissors out of place. Had it not of been for her djinn, she would have never noticed. Her previous state was far too weak and her senses too dull. Luckily, Lonnie helped. _What's this doing here?_ She thought. _Wait a minute. This was where I was, right here. I-I was unconscious and Annabelle… I remember she was beside me and…_ She scoffed as she let out a huff when she realized Annabelle's intention. Her hand instinctively picked it up from the floor and she looked at the deadly weapon in her hand. "That bitch!" She growled. "I may not see all the doors but if there's one thing I know, it's the universes and its patterns," she uttered to herself. She firmly gripped the scissors and swiftly exited where she was and made her way down the steps. Elizabeth was always one to think ahead and when she reached the living room, she peered into the dining hall. In the distance was a weapon, one that she noticed yesterday night. Her eyes were planted on the large caliber revolver that hung on the wall. The ground suddenly shook and vibrated, shaking her balance loose. She recovered immediately thanks to her djinn. _The attack must have started,_ she thought. With haste, she entered the neatly decorated dining hall and dragged a chair to where the revolver was. Her stature was shorter than Booker; reaching something that high required a leg up. She hopped on the chair and reached for the gun, unlatching it in the process. Large pieces of conjoined metal and stone came crashing down in the vicinity, violently shaking the house, causing her to lose her footing. "Ah!" she screamed as she fell backwards from the chair. Amazingly, she involuntarily spun and landed with grace and without injury. "Wow," she exhaled in relief. "You're pretty useful. Thanks." The rumbling continued, urging her to leave. As the lights flickered from the chaos outside, she wasted not a second longer and this time, ran to the entrance.

When she finally made it past the gates, destruction and chaos greeted her. She wasn't in immediately danger however, she was far from safe. Multiple sets of steps that lead down to the main street was the next obstacle. She scurried down the stone steps while examining the ruin before her eyes. Most of the psychotic people had scattered away from the main street and city center. _They must have worked their way to the districts, _she thought. Her eyes scanned the road signs, looking for her destination and luckily, she found a large steel post with an arrow pointing to the right. It stated, 'Avenue of Fidelities. Health, wealth, and goodness.' She promptly turned and jogged in that direction, hoping to find Booker.

…

Meanwhile, Booker and Camille were crouching behind a statue that stood behind one of the buildings. Rain of fire was coming down upon the once prosperous looking plaza. The Avenue of Fidelities was a place that anyone could go to for their financial woes and health related troubles. It consisted of a large fountain disguised as a statue at the center with several buildings surrounding it. A couple blimps that hovered above the area had them as targets. They released volleys of flak toward them, disintegrating stone and setting ablaze any vegetation it touched. That which was a design for as anti-aircraft was repurposed for siege attack and Booker knew in that instant the type of weapon they used when it hit the statue above him. There was no chance that he could make it to safety in one piece. They have been cut off from their route due to the new Columbian splicers. Making their way to the doctor was now a pipe dream. Their slim chances were reduced to zero when the blimps flew near providing artillery fire for their comrades. Booker and Camille did not anticipate the city being under siege; he wasn't prepared and had no weapons. The situation was worsening and Booker had no choice but to stay put. Exiting cover to run for a building was akin to suicide so he braced and covered himself from any rubble that fell on him. Luckily there was no fragmentations from the explosions that hit the nearby spots where he hid. He could hear the crazed laughter and shouting in the distance and it was headed his way.

Surprisingly, the onslaught of flak fire stopped. Booker stuck his head out of cover to peek at the situation. When he looked, he saw the blimps that had locked them down started to fly away, toward the monument. He noticed that other ships had already converged on it, littering it with cannon fire. He decided in that moment it was safe, he was going to make a run for the nearby building. "Alright, c'mon let's go!" he shouted as he pulled Camille up by her wrist. They made their way toward one of the entrances and as he got closer, he heard a familiar voice calling out to him. It was faint but just enough to catch his attention. He scanned his surroundings, looking for where it came from.

"Booker!"

Camille had noticed a woman in an alleyway and called her master's attention, "Master look! Over there," she pointed. It was a large alleyway filled with bushes and at its entrance was a brick archway. Booker spotted the person running toward him and squinted his eyes from the sunlight to see who it was. "Annabelle?" He shouted. Camille confirmed that it was indeed her and they both jogged to her. "Annabelle? What are you doing here? It's dangerous! Where's Anna?" he shouted as he got close.

"I-I don't know! I'm scared. I was looking for… I was looking for you!" She shouted back. Camille suddenly stopped and covered her gaping mouth from what she saw. "Booker I…" Annabelle's words were abruptly cut short by an arm that rapidly locked itself around her neck, yanking her back. "A-Annabelle!" Booker yelled in horror as he saw what was unfolding in front of him. Her screams couldn't escape her mouth and any attempt to yell for help was suddenly quelled by a cold piercing sensation in her heart. Its pain was immense, sharp, and immediate. She whimpered as she looked at Booker's widened eyes. The hold around her was released and she stood, quivering. She gasped for air as she slowly looked down at her chest; it was stained with dark warm blood. And from where her heart was, a sharp metal point jutted outwards. Blood oozed from it like a river, staining her dress from her chest down. She yelped in pain from the sudden jolt of the object being yanked from her chest. Blood violently squirted out and Annabelle collapsed to the floor.

"Annabelle!" he screamed as he slid on his knees to her. There was no response. "Annabelle!" He scooped her chest up with his arm as he tried fruitlessly tried to wake her up. The wound that she suffered was undeniably fatal. The bleeding stopped but not because she was recovering, but because her heart could no longer pump blood from the massive trauma. He placed his shaking hand on where her heart was. The warm sensation of blood creeping past his fingers sent him into an emotional frenzy. He wanted to scream and shout. His labored breathing was indicative of his internal turmoil. "A-Annabelle…" he whimpered at her lifeless body. In his heart, she was a gift given back to him, a chance at redemption. And now she was gone, it was dream that was too good to be true. He failed to choose, so the choice was made for him. His horrific feelings of sadness was eventually overcame by the overwhelming anger that he felt. He knew who killed her, and it was time he faced her. Slowly, he looked up toward Elizabeth. She stood with her fist balled and in the other, grasping a pair of scissors. Her eyes were shut but her brows furrowed. There was no smile on her face, nothing but a scowled expression. She was not remorseful, not sorry in the slightest. Booker's expression was full of fury. His hands shook even more from the adrenaline he felt rushing his body. Elizabeth had killed his love and he wanted revenge. There was only one person who felt that way against and it was Comstock. Booker was speechless; he could not believe that Elizabeth would dare to commit such an act. Breaking her silence, she spoke, "She was not yours to have… But you _had_ to have her. _I_ was yours…"

He carefully laid Annabelle down and slowly arose, meeting Elizabeth's gaze. He found his hands balled into a fist and his body hot with hate. His scornful look burned with anger as it pierced her soul. "You… You killed her. You killed my…"

"Mother is dead! _My_ mother died decades ago. That's just something you can't seem to grasp, is it?" she sneered. Booker could not find the words to say that would justify how he felt; anger, hatred, grief, and love. Instead, he stared into her eyes with a cold and hateful glare. He tried to control his breathing, but he felt his body preparing for conflict. His breaths became short and his body started to sweat.

"Yeah, that look. That's the same look I gave Comstock right before I put a bullet in him."

"Elizabeth, you… How could you?"

"Had to be done."

"You got a deathwish? Huh?" He snarled. His voice now louder. She stayed silent as she looked down at his blue ascot.

"Answer me!" he yelled.

"So, what… Are you going to kill me too, hm? You want to avenge the person you love?" she scoffed. "Go ahead. Take away all memories. You'll be doing me a favor. I'd rather not live if you can't love me back." She slowly laid out her hand and opened her fist, revealing the bloodied scissor. With that gesture, she offered a way out. She even encouraged that he would go through with it. Booker hesitantly reached for it and when he gripped it, he felt his hand squeezing it hard. He looked at it and Elizabeth. His blood was now circulating fast, rushing through his body as his heart pumped overtime. He felt the pounding of blood in his head and the empowering sensation that his adrenaline provided.

"It's fitting…" she mumbled, looking deep into his eyes.

"That I should die by the hands that sold me."

With her last statement, Booker flew into a rage and swiftly seized her neck, squeezing as he wrapped his fingers around her. Elizabeth yelped from the sudden attack against her most vulnerable part. She groaned from the overwhelming force and shut her eyes as the pressure increased. Her small hands vainly tried to pry open his hand. His grip was unrelenting and she was no match for it. "You! You did this!" He snarled. She felt his clasp tightening, causing pain as his appendages slowly began to clamp shut her blood supply. Elizabeth gritted her teeth as she tried to bear the immense sensation. She was defenseless. Never had he done something to hurt her. Her heart had accepted what was to happen, but she did not anticipate what just occurred. She resisted but gave in seconds later as she realized death was what she wanted. Her arms dropped and hung freely beside her body as she tried endure what she understood was the end. She did not want to fight it any longer, therefore; her body became limp as a doll in his hand. Her pained expression was heart wrenching. Up to that moment Camille dared not to intervene but she could not stay silent. "Master!" she cried. "You're going to kill her!" Her voice came as a mumbled muffle to his ears. His rage filled eyes would not budge from Elizabeth. In his anger he wanted to strangle her, to give back what she did to his wife. He bared his teeth from his pure abhorrence of her sin as he gnashed them together. Booker's hostile expression was unmistakable, he was going to end her life. A feeble cough managed to escape her mouth. Her pained expression started to change as her face relaxed its muscles. Her eyes that were shut, slowly opened, releasing a tear and revealing her grief-ridden eyes. It rolled down her cheek and dripped onto his hand. Her glassy and sorrowful irises reflected deep inward agony that she wished to be free from.

A.D. The very brand of regret on his hand stuck out like sirens in the night. His fingers twitched as he struggled to keep the hold he had on her. The warm tear that fell on his hand and the face she showed was enough to shake him from his anger. She managed a pained smile, showing him that it was okay – all was forgiven. Suddenly, conviction overtook his anger as he widened his eyes; he had broken free from the grip of his rage. Emotions of guilt and shame pierced his heart like an arrow set ablaze when he finally realized who he was hurting. His one and only love could have died by his hands. He quickly released his grasp around her throat and dropped his sights down to his quivering hands. She forcefully gasped for air and coughed as she cupped her throat. She had never been choked before and it was something she'd wish she never have to go through again. Fortunately, the pain and pressure she felt quickly vanished along with the reddened skin. Her djinn empowered her body, healing her within seconds and she was grateful that she found it earlier. She let out a deep sigh as body returned to normal. She could have been angry at him but she was happy, happy that he returned to her. Booker, ashamed for being blinded by rage, fell to his knees and his eyes begun to fill up. It has been years since he truly cried and on that afternoon, Elizabeth freed him. "Anna… Anna, I am so sorry!" he whimpered as he looked to her. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to."

Through her loving and tender heart, she shushed him, "Shh… Shh… It's okay." She bent down and gently brushed her hands down his stubble ridden cheeks all the while looking at him with forgiving eyes. "I could have killed you," he cried. "My Anna, I almost…"

"Shh… Booker, it's alright," she hushed as she combed her fingers through his messy hair. Her warm and soft touch was comforting to him; it was what his soul desperately needed. Her love washed over soul, drowning out every fiery pit of regret and every blackened wound of guilt. Everything that he had carried since yesterday faded away with the wind. His expression could not hide the freedom he felt beneath her forgiveness and love. Elizabeth's eyes were heavy with tears that she held in and finally, like a flood gate opening, they came rushing down. "Anna… I was so blind this whole time… C-Can you forgive me?" Her tears flowed freely when as she heard him confess. Without saying a single word, she leaned in and softly kissed his forehead. "Father," she whispered. "I already have." With her last murmur, she gently lifted his chin and brought her lips close to his. Booker could feel how near she was to his lips. He could smell the encompassing fragrance that she wore. His nostrils gladly carried her sweet and feminine scent to his muddied brain. Her breath softly breezed past his hairs, tingling its pores as it glided. He was like a soldier defeated in battle, kneeling helplessly before his attacker. But instead of death, Elizabeth provided the forgiveness that he craved, the loved that he so deeply desired. And without further hesitation, they connected once again like that have in the past. She passionately pressed her lips against his, squeezing her bottom lip in between his parted mouth. With a mind of its own, her tongue slithered its way in and meeting his. She quickly retracted it as she tried to hang on to reality, remembering that they both were vulnerable. As she tried to resist, the unexpected nibble of her bottom lip activated her carnal side. Immediately, she moaned through their kiss. Her spirit was so starved of affection that she felt it beginning to override her actions. Being with him again and having him back could not have made her happier. She slid her tongue back in and sank in the passion of their moment. The negative emotions that held her down begun to drift away with each second that passed. Unaware of her situation and forgetting that Booker's maid was standing right there, she kept kissing. She was too enveloped in their love to notice that Camille had called them. Her voice fell on deaf ears.

She felt a sudden tug of her hair so she flashed opened her eyes, remembering once again their circumstances. Her djinn had just reminded her where she was currently standing; a place not so friendly and welcoming to love. She parted from his lips and smiled brightly. "C'mon, let's go. We need to go somewhere safe," she gleefully encouraged as she helped him stand to his feet. She instructed him to run into the building as she ran to the alleyway to retrieve the revolver. She had stored it in a large bush when she hid out of sight from Annabelle. She made her way to the entrance of the building but paused when she reached Annabelle's corpse. Looking down at her bloodied body, she narrowed her eyes in contempt as her lips formed deviously wry smile.

"Anna! Get inside," Booker shouted as he stuck his head out the door.

"C-Coming!" she responded as she ran to him.

…

Up upon a rooftop close by, stood the Luteces. Solemn in their expression, they watched closely as it all happened. Robert held his arm tightly against his chest and the other behind his back. Rosalind had her hands clasped together at middle likewise. They stood as they always have – posh, while looking down toward the Dewitts as they hid themselves from the Sanctus Domini. They were somber but stern. With keen eyes, they judged the Elizabeth's every action. Not a smile was shown and not a single word came from them.


	11. Chapter 11 - Reconciliation

**Chapter 11**

**Reconciliation**

The floor rumbled for the final time as the last zeppelin departed the area. The volley of cannon fire had peppered holes into the upper floors, rendering the building on the brink of collapse. Luckily, it stood as tall as it did before. The elaborate chandeliers hanging above shook and chimed as the glass pieces clapped one another. Chips fell from the ceiling, releasing particles into the already dusty air. Camille brushed her head and shoulders from the pieces that landed on her. She withdrew her lips tightly, trying her hardest not to cough. With a heavy and loud swing, Booker slammed the door shut and locked it immediately afterwards. The area in which they hid seemed to have been in one piece, aside from the damage of artillery fire. The lights flickered wildly, struggling to stay on. With each flicker, they revealed furniture reminiscent of Columbia. The reddish wooden desks and chairs that were strategically placed around hinted of financial business that was being conducted just hours prior. It was surprisingly kept, despite the chaos outside. Elizabeth and Booker quickly studied their surroundings, scanning for any potential threats. With a keen eye and years of experience he carefully and quietly walked around, ready to pummel anyone that appeared. Camille clumsily approached Elizabeth, almost tripping on a coat rack along the way. "Misses," she fretted. "Are you hurt?" With a smile, Elizabeth replied cheerfully, "I'm alright. You look a little worse for wear."

"I'm okay. It's just dust," Camille responded with a shy smile. She looked over to Booker whom had a lamp in his hand, peeking around a corner. As she saw her lover healthy and alive doing what he did best livened her spirts once more. She walked nonchalantly toward him clopping her heels on the tiles along the way. Booker looked back and held his hand out, gesturing her to lower her volume. Her smiled turned into a smirk as she approached, extending her arm out with the revolver in hand. "There's no one here," she affirmed. "Losing your touch?"

"Can't be too careful," he said as he turned to her and reached for the weapon she offered. With a quick motion of his hand, he tucked it snugly behind him, halfway in his pants. He looked at her and sighed. His composure now at ease, he can somewhat address what just happened moments ago. They locked eyes for what felt like hours until his hand found itself framing her soft jaw. There was guilt in the way that he touched her and she felt it through his warm hand. The way he hesitated as his hand drew close, the way it timidly touched smooth skin, it was all too obvious. Although she had already forgiven him for what he had done, the pain he caused, Booker did not even dare to forgive himself. Her lips curled into a pained smile as she peered into his broken spirit. His eyes were an open door, revealing to her his heart in entirety where words failed to explain. The rhythmic thumping of his heart lightly tapped her skin through his palm. They were steady but missing the liveliness that it once had. She gently laid her hand over his as she slightly leaned her head. Hoping to comfort him with her loving gaze and touch, she traced his masculine jawline with her finger, triggering a chain reaction of emotions from him. He was receptive of her unfathomable love. Regardless of what he had done, she loved him all the same. He shut his eyes that were heavy with regret and drooped his head. A sign of disgrace; what he showed was as clear as day. His defeated spirit was full of sinking feelings of worthlessness and he could not bear to look at the one he hurt. Determined and refusing to relinquish her love like she had done before, she steadily raised his chin with her curled index and whispered his name.

As he slowly opened his eyes, he realized the woman whom he truly loved was just an inch away. She was the hand that stretched out to his drowning soul and he desperately reached for it. His sorrowful expression was unbearable to her and she needed for him to feel loved. Her pained smile now exposed her teary eyes. However, she was not crying from sadness, but happiness and relief. She leaned in closer to his lips for a kiss, a kiss that was interrupted by their circumstances earlier. But her wishes were denied for now. Booker only had the courage to hug her. Too guilt ridden to give affection, he leaned his head to the side, avoiding her request and pulled her in tightly. With his arms wrapped snugly around her petite body, he let out a sigh of relief. His mind was still in a state of turmoil and he has yet to process it all. Even after it was all made clear, he was still fighting the battle within, trying to piece together the facts and reconcile his morals and his heart. It was reminiscent of Columbia and more recently – Paris.

Although denied of affection, she acquiesced. There was no more room for trouble. They both have had enough and she understood that he needed time. She had accepted the truth of what happened, that it was needed for Booker to see the light. It was more than a fair trade in her eyes. A dead rival and a bit of pain for her lover's return. Contrary to what he felt, she felt nothing aside from freedom and joy. There was no question of whether she had committed the crime but, conviction was nowhere to be found in her heart. No regret, no shame, and no guilt; she was unrepentant. Elizabeth knew that a future where they could all be together was possible. She knew that it could be done and that it was a chance for her lover to make things right for himself. It was a chance for her to become normal as well. But she denied that possibility, it did not fit her narrative to be a family with Annabelle. So therefore, she also denied Booker the chance of redemption. With the thrust of the scissor from her hand, she ended the life of her innocent mother. All so she could have her father to herself. It was easy decision for her.

Violence, manipulation, incest, murder, cruelty, dishonesties, and selfishness; she was a Dewitt and a Comstock through and through – just like her father.

Elizabeth was dead set on being the only lover in her father's eyes and her crime further solidified her resolve. There was nothing that could stand in her way and nothing to rival her love any longer. She did not want to be redeemed from her sin if it means to lose him. So, at the expense of their sanctification, she kept them both under the weight of sin. She believed that they were far too gone to be saved. With Annabelle gone, her heart was filled with happiness – a tainted and dark happiness. Something had changed in her. He was the one, her shining light, and her rescuer. Seeing her savior's love blossoming for another had twisted that which should not have been touched. Compulsively attached and possessive, she held on to him even tighter. Her sanity was in question and the Luteces foresaw it happening; they were well aware, and thus began their experiments.

…

"I'm glad you're back," she whispered happily, breathing onto his chest. The white shirt that she picked for him matched him well and she was proud of her decision. Booker turned his head and kissed her soft dark hair. The feathery texture that kissed his lips back was a piece of heaven for him, lifting his spirits. He withdrew a deep breath and compartmentalized his emotions into a box and had set it aside in light or their unfortunate circumstances. "C'mon. Time to get going. We'll talk about all of this later," he urged as he slowly parted from her embrace. She was used to his straight-forward attitude and iron hardened focus. She too, shared his qualities. "We gotta figure out what's going on. Anna, any clues as to why?" He asked as he walk over to one of the windows.

"Your guess is as good as mine," said Elizabeth, walking to a different window. It was empty outside, almost peaceful even. But Booker knew of what danger awaited them if they stepped out. Elizabeth glanced over to Camille who was studying her surroundings. "What about you? Would you happen to know?"

"I'm sorry misses. But I do not. Master… My master did mention that this city would be attacked but did not explain why."

"We have to get to the bottom of this. Perhaps we can find clues somewhere else," Elizabeth added. In that moment she remembered what Lonnie said, 'When the time comes, make your way to the Museum of History, down on 23rd street in the memorial district.'

"Booker, we need to go. I think I know what we have to do next."

"And what's that?" he asked.

"That Lonnie fellow mentioned something about the Memorial District. I suppose he knows this was all bound to happen."

With having a clear destination in mind, they proceeded onward and found their way around to the entrance doors. Large wooden double doors stood between them and the danger that awaited outside. With the utmost caution, they exited the front entrance of the building and snuck their way to the large statue standing at the center. Booker led the way as he did before. They decided that it was best for him to lead due to his experience with physical conflict. As they stuck their backs to the base of the statue, Booker asked Camille for directions since he assumed she knew. Despite living in Elysium a large portion of her life, she had never stepped outside the doors of the mansion. Heeding the instruction of Lonnie, she remained home for the sole purpose of protecting her master. When he asked, she could only answer with uncertainty as the city was just as unfamiliar to him as it was to her. Luckily however, Elizabeth had a clue of where to press forward. "I saw a sign that pointed to where we need to be earlier when I was looking for you," she added. Booker nodded in affirmation suggested that she guide their steps. They continued forward out of the courtyard and onto a street between buildings. It seemed to be a long street that connected the districts. Although smaller, it was still large enough to house shops and little stalls that stood along the way. They were all abandoned and most have been ransacked from the invaders. Squashed fruits and groceries laid about, coloring the stone walkways as garbage littered the area. As they carefully treaded onwards, the quiet road slowly revealed a horrific aftermath of the slaughter that took place. Blood and bodies laid around as if some psychopath had an itch for art.

Elizabeth studied their surroundings as she walked behind the frightened maid. Camille had never seen so much evil done in such a short time. She covered mouth as she took in the horror before her eyes. A citizen's body was hung on the brick wall by large metal bolts. They seemed to have been killed by a crossbow of some sort. "Camille, be careful!" Elizabeth blurted as she quickly grabbed Camille's shoulder, stopping her dead in the tracks. "Look," she said. "A shock jockey trap…" It would appear to be a chemical spill to the untrained eye, but Elizabeth knew better. Seconds later, the spill started to crackle with electricity as it detected Camille, sprouting a crystal-like shard from its puddle. Booker had already walked ahead and was busy peeking into a storefront when he heard her unusual words. He glanced over to them and realized an accident had almost happened. Typically, he did not have to warn Elizabeth on their adventures but he had forgotten that Camille was with them. "Just watch your step. We don't want anyone else joining the dead," he called out. They circumvented the trap and joined Booker whom was several paces ahead. As she approached, Booker gestured them to be cautious as he had heard a noise when Elizabeth had not yet gotten close. The door was wide open and broken glass laid scattered all along the floor. All of the shop's supplies and products were thrown off their shelves, nothing was in order. As they stuck their heads in and listened closely, a sinister laughter echoed from the deep within. Booker nodded his head at Elizabeth and they proceeded inwards. "Misses!" Camille whispered with urgency. "Don't worry, we know our way around a scuffle," she assured her. "Wait outside." Booker snuck his way around to the entrance of a hallway and hid just out of sight, preparing his arms to attack as Elizabeth stood with her hand on her hip in front of the hall. With a subtle glance at Booker, she opened her mouth and exclaimed a feign cry of help. "Oh… I am so lost and scared. Will somebody please help?" The laughing was suddenly replaced by a loud growl. The snarling grew louder as an enemy approached. "Who's there?" a crazed voice called out.

"Can you help me? I'm scared!" Elizabeth grinned as she faked a weak and fragile voice. The footsteps could be heard approaching and Booker prepared for combat. A shadowy silhouette of a human drew closer until it eventually stepped into the light, revealing itself to be a horribly twisted form of a man that it once was. Mangled and bloody, it stepped out of the shadows and bared its teeth at her, licking its disgusting lips. She stood firm in place, confident and strong. There was not a hint of fear in her eyes as she stared down the enemy. As soon as it stepped out of the hallway, Booker jumped out from cover and forcefully yanked him from his shoulders and swung him around expectantly. Surprised and angry, it yelled with an animalistic roar. With his left hand he shoved him into the wall as his right hand gripped his gnarled head, slamming a hole into the newly invented drywall. Booker yanked his head back and repeated his smashing until the crazed human fought back with unusual strength. Although lankier, he matched Booker's prowess as they struggled to gain advantage over one another. Booker swiftly swung his arm around his neck into lock-hold as he tried to stay balanced. The creature roared again as it tried to pry his Booker's arm off. Subduing him was harder than they anticipated and Booker had to take him down fast. The man pushed with both of its legs against the wall forcefully which knocked Booker off balance. But Booker knew of this rudimentary tactic back when he worked for the Pinkertons. It was nothing new. He spun around as he fell, countering his action and slamming the man into the floorboard. It has been a while since he had gotten into a fist fight and he was ready to do what he must. The adrenaline he felt, empowered him to beat the man senseless. With his knee dug into the man's back, he pinned him down and raised his fist, preparing to smash his skull in.

Before he could land the blow, a vase came flying downward at high speed smashing into the back of the psychopath's head, breaking into thousands of little pieces on contact. He laid there unconscious with bits of porcelain sprinkled on his head. As Booker noticed he no longer needed to fight, he lowered his arm and relaxed his posture. Elizabeth made quick work of their wrestle match. He stood up and eased himself as he studied the grotesque body. "This guy," he panted. "Not your usual maniac from Finkton. What's wrong with him?" Camille came rushing in after she saw that he was put out of commission. All of this was new to her; the violence, the chaos, and the physical conflict. She gasped at the up close sight of the deformed man. Old news – taking down a crazed person was just another day for Booker. Unfazed, he whipped out his pack of cigarettes and Elizabeth's brass lighter she had given him. He groaned when he realized it were bent. After ripping off the rest of the top, he extracted a cigarette only to find that it too was bent – unsurprisingly. Booker watched his daughter examining the body as he lit up his crooked cigarette. "Hm, feel better already."

"I've seen this before but only in Rapture. They're splicers but from Columbia," she began.

"What's a splicer?" he asked, before he took another drag of his cigarette.

"Someone who had too many vigors," she explained as she kneeled down, scanning his distorted looking body. "But I've never seen this condition deteriorate this badly."

"I've never seen anything like it. Damn near had me."

"It's what happens when you use too much. That's why I was always hesitant to throw you some salts back then. This just confirms my suspicions."

"That would explain why I always had a headache when I needed some. Is he still human?"

"Does it matter?"

Elizabeth carefully searched the splicer's body for anything helpful. She dug around his pant pockets, hoping to find something that would help their progress. His pockets turned up nothing but spare change and a few left over candy pieces – sticky and half eaten. She withdrew her hand only to find a piece of candy stuck to her finger. "Ugh!" She flapped her hand in disgust as she tried to shake it off. With a clank it flew and hit a nearby shelf. Unexpectedly, her djinn snapped free from its current form as her hair ribbon and hurriedly flew over to catch the rolling candy piece. She felt her hair suddenly falling freely over her body and past her face when her djinn got distracted. Surprised, she looked over and noticed her djinn holding and licking it energetically. Curious by the sudden appearance of a creature that he has never seen before, he inquired about the strange animal. "Was that…? What is that thing?" With a smile, Elizabeth watched as it tried eating the candy. "That's my djinn. I suppose it likes sweets."

"And what's a djinn?"

Camille felt obligated to answer his question and so, she interjected, "They're magical creatures. That one belongs to Elizabeth. Mister Lonnie and I have been caring for it. It looks like it chose a suitable master. I have one as well."

"Magic? Ridiculous," Booker scoffed.

"How ridiculous did Columbia seem to you when you first saw it?" Elizabeth confirmed. "There's a world of possibilities. Don't be so quick to write off what you see."

"And where have I heard that one before…?" He asked sarcastically while taking another puff. His comment reminded her of a time before it all happened. She grinned when she remembered showing him the doors, his past, her past, and all the infinite worlds. With a smirk, she replied, "Right before you learned that you and I share the same blood."

"Huh… You learn something new every day."

"Camille, help me with his," she groaned as she tried to roll the body over. Without hesitation, she immediately assisted her and turned the body on its back. The malformed face of what was once human made Camille back up in disgust. She withdrew her lips and turned around, hoping not to get sick to her stomach. Unmoved by the revolting flesh that was practically in arms reach, Elizabeth checked around further and with luck, she found a small revolver hidden in his vest pocket. "Bingo," she chirped. "And with ammo too."

"C'mon we gotta get moving. There's no telling when the next lunatic is going to throw us a welcoming party," Booker urged as he tossed his half-smoked cigarette. "Wait, don't you want to check the back?" she asked.

"No. Probably just a pile of dead bodies."

"Right," she agreed as she stood up. Her Djinn noticed that Elizabeth was leaving and it promptly flew to her shoulder where it perched itself. It continued nibbling on the candy as she walked. "Cute little fella you got there," Booker commented when he was the last one to exit.

"Camille, you mentioned earlier that you had a djinn. What does it do?" Elizabeth asked

"Mister Lonnie designed it. I don't fully understand but what I know is that as long as I am around Master, she can't hurt him."

"Evelyn?" Booker asked.

"I am not sure."

"Anna, I won't be able to help much since my gun's empty. Can you manage?"

"That won't be a problem," Elizabeth replied as she hid her gun in her dress sash.

Having finished its food, her djinn flew itself into her hair ribbon and tied her hair into a loose ponytail once again. They continued onwards down the empty road for a while until they reached the large main street's center. Its condition was worse than before. To their left about half a kilometer was the mansion and the monument. It was in shambles. Massive pieces of brass stuck out from their half collapsed home. Other pieces of the monument had crushed the gardens, steps, and gates of the mansion. The monument was still standing but it scarcely resembled what it was before. "Still in one piece," said Booker. "Hardly," Elizabeth corrected. Suddenly, grotesque noises emanated from difference sources nearby. Several of the Columbian splicers had returned and were prodding around, looking for hidden survivors. Nothing was left untouched as each building was either set ablaze by fire or destroyed by cannons. The ones that remained erect were draped with the large banner that covered more than half of its side. This was no longer Elysium but rather another unfortunate Columbia. The city center was almost unrecognizable. Carts and stalls laid on the ground, broken in pieces and its contents – spilled. Even the fire hydrants were irreparably damaged, spewing their water all around. Booker and Elizabeth both pressed their backs against the side of building that faced the street. There was no cover near enough to hide their presence. Running out in the open seemed to be the only option but it was akin to suicide. Having only six bullets and no other means of defense was asking for a gruesome death. Elizabeth looked down the opposite way of the of road an saw that the Welcome Center was a complete pile of rubble. Debris blanketed the nearby area and had blocked off most street along with the connecting roads leading to other districts. They would only find disappointment and obstruction down that path. "There. Look!" Elizabeth pointed at a large sign post on the opposite side of where they stood. On the other side of the street erected a small cherubim statue forged from copper that branded, 'Museum of history. Our History. Your History. 1000 paces.' Booker looked upwards and noticed a dome peeking out from atop the store buildings in the distance. A large political looking structure stood atop an elevated plateau. It was even larger than the mansion and towered above all other buildings surrounding it. Getting there was the challenge and the stakes were too high.

"That's where we need to go," Elizabeth said.

"We're only going to get slaughtered if we try our luck getting across. No, ain't happening."

"And not anytime soon. Let's wait it out," she said, looking up at the building in which they stood under. Neither of them were agreeable to their present option so thus they decided on another choice. "Here, this looks like a good spot." She snuck around to the front and ducked under the bushes and tables. Booker and Camille followed closely behind. The front of the store's door was open, its glass shattered. Along with everything else in the store, it was completely vandalized and plundered. It stood 10 stories high and Elizabeth was hoping that the upper floors were untouched. She was occupied with studying and pondering a way to go about things but Booker saw and opportunity and dived in. He grabbed her by the wrist and ran inside the shop. Camille saw their abrupt decision and clumsily followed, knocking over a chair as she ran. The noise had caught the unwanted attention of some nearby splicers. They looked over to see what it was and some had begun to walk toward them to investigate. Elizabeth looked back and saw that a few were closing in to their location. "Booker!" she spoke softly. "They're on to us." He immediately started scanning the area, looking for a place to hide. "Where's the stairs?" he sputtered.

"There is none, Master! From what I learned, this city runs on the DNA of its people."

"That doesn't make sense!" Booker blurted as he looked up and all around for any other way to the upper floors. The building was quite large, approximately three times the size of a souvenir shop they visited and almost as big as the mansion gardens. "Master, they're getting close!"

"Booker, the elevator!" Elizabeth said as she rushed over to push the button. Surprisingly, it chimed and its doors opened. They quickly rushed in and Booker slammed the button with his fist, urging it to go faster. Thankfully doors came to a close with the splicers still outside and with a minor rumble, it began taking them up to the 10th floor. An exhale of relief escaped his mouth as he leaned on the elevator wall with his hand. Camille whimpered in fear as she stood frozen in place. Elizabeth saw that she was frightened and hugged the little maid in hopes of comforting her. "We're okay," she hummed. Camille's quivering slowly eased away as she felt safe in her arms. Elizabeth's compassion had not changed since the time she first witnessed all the misery in Finkton. "Misses…" Camille whispered as she held her. Moments later, they finally arrived at their designated floor and with another chime, the doors slid open revealing a beautifully decorated large bedroom, intact and untouched by splicers. The 10th floor was the penthouse suite that was divided into two rooms. "This room… It's practically new," said Elizabeth as she walked around. Booker holstered his revolver and walked to a window facing the main street. The view from the 10th floor was enough for him to see the Museum in plain view. Looking down, he saw multiple splicers running amuck as their attention was drown to someone else whom was running away from them. "See if you can find anything useful. We might be here for a while," he said as he looked up at a zeppelin that just floated within view. "Ok," she agreed. Hoping to find something of use or ammo despite having low chances, he dug around a nearby dresser. In there, he found some personal jewelry that belonged to a woman. It wasn't any unusual in particular but it did bring him back to yesterday evening at the lighthouse. In that moment he was reminded exactly of what Robert had given him and he immediately patted his pant pocket, hoping that it was still there. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt a circular object. With eagerness he pulled it out and looked at its brilliance – A gorgeous diamond ring. With a satisfied expression, he called to Elizabeth, "Anna, come here."

"Yes, father?" said Elizabeth cheerfully, as she briskly made her way to him. "Did you find something?"

He chuckled at her cheery voice when he realized she was versed in a multitude of roles and performed them well. "What's so funny?" she inquired.

"Sometimes I forget that you can be a killer," he uttered as he looked to her.

"I'm a lot of things. That happens to be one of them. If Rosalind were here, she would say something along the lines of, 'The apple doesn't fall far from the tree,' or something rather," She smiled.

"I-I'm sorry…" Booker muttered while carrying a somber expression.

"What?"

"Anna, I'm sorry… I'm sorry for hurting you, for giving you up to Comstock. I…"

"Hey…" Elizabeth softly murmured as she pressed her index finger atop his lips, halting his speech. "It's alright." She smiled. "What happened – it was for the best. I have you back." He closed his eyes in shame. "I'd go through it all over again just to have you with me," she continued. Having never addressed the pain he caused her and his regret. He decided it was time he redeemed himself. "No," Booker said as he shook his head. She raised her eyebrows to his statement. "What do you mean?"

"I promise you will never have to go through anything like that again. Not while I live," he said as he lowered himself to one knee. Elizabeth's slowly eyes widened as she gasped and covered her mouth. "B-Booker?" she stuttered as she thought what was just a hopeful dream, now happening. He looked up at her and laid out his palm, requesting her hand. "I should have done this sooner," he expressed as he held up the ring with his other hand. "You were right. I was blind. A man like me could never ask for your forgiveness… I only ask that you…"

His sentence was cut short by a tackle that knocked him to the floor with a loud thud. The sudden expression of affection almost made him drop his ring. He wrapped his arms around Elizabeth and held her there as they laid on the floor. "Does that mean yes?" he chuckled. She remained absent of words as she was too entrenched in the overwhelming happiness she experienced washing over her. He felt warm drops of tears kiss his collar, running down to his neck. One after another, they dripped. He gently combed her hair with his fingers and kissed her head. Her crying only intensified into a silent sob when he kissed her. All of their struggles and pain have finally led to what she was hoping for. Although it was not in Paris or during a sunset like she dreamed of, it was real and it finally happened.

It was the first time embracing each other again ever since Annabelle walked into their lives. All of what she held in and all of what she suppressed erupted in that moment. Her heart wanted to express a thousand ways to say that she loved him and missed him but she was lost for words deep within his arms. It has felt like ages since she swam in his love. To her, a minute without him was a day away from him. Her sobbing slowly subsided as she faded into the comforting bliss of his embrace. As the seconds passed, she began to drift away as his steady breathing lulled her. The gentle rising and falling of his chest and his soft beating heart soothed away all of her pain and misery that she endured. Elizabeth did not sleep well last night. And having next to nothing to eat, she was exhausted.

Booker left her laying on his chest and let her sleep for a while; He did not want to disturb his daughter. After a several minutes have passed, Booker slowly sat up and carefully carried her in his arms as he walked over to the nearby bed. He quietly took her hand and slipped on the engagement ring. It was a perfect fit as if it was there once before. She did not budge an inch and slept peacefully.

Booker noticed that Camille had fallen asleep on a couch. With sympathy for Camille and renewed love for Elizabeth, he made himself a promise in that moment. He walked over to the window and directed his gaze at the rest of Elysium. Chaos and destruction was still rampant in other parts of different districts. He pulled out another cigarette and lit it, satisfying his craving as he watched zeppelins bombing the city.

_I promise, that I will never let you two get hurt… _He stated beneath his breath as he blew smoke at the window.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

Thank you all for taking the time to read. I have been taking longer to post new chapters and this is because we are getting to a point where editing is of the utmost importance. Also it's because the chapters are now twice as long as compared to the first couple. I seem to have a habit of writing long chapters but 5.5k is the longest I will write. I also want to say thanks to my reviewers. You guys give me motivation and reason to keep writing.


	12. Chapter 12 - Plans in motion

**Chapter 12**

**Plans in motion**

Lightning flashed vividly as it crawled along night sky. Its deafening sounds thundered throughout the blackened city. With each crash of a lightning bolt, the ominously dark city was briefly illuminated, revealing a ruined and derelict city that was once paradise. Its light orbs were all but destroyed and darkness enveloped entire area. The utter destruction delivered by the invading revolutionaries was devastating. Only a few remained among the living and hope seemed unreachable. It was no longer the image of utopia but a dark and desolate wasteland as if some natural disaster had brought calamity. Lightning struck a zeppelin that flew nearby the massive floating island named New Eden. Silhouettes struggling against was momentarily made visible from the flash. Lightning ferociously struck the airship again, highlighting the fighting character's movements. Voices of desperation echoed loudly throughout the dismal scenery. Shouting and yelling was accompanied by gunfire and clashing in the sky. Up atop the zeppelin Booker shouted as he struggled against an incredibly powerful and large foe. Armed with weapons at its disposal and covered with armored plates of brass, it charged at Elizabeth with dangerous speed. With his sharpened reflexes and quick thinking, he dived, shoving her out of the way. Instantly, he felt a crushing and unimaginable force smash into his side, sending him flying meters away. Elizabeth quickly sprung up, yelling as she saw Booker flying across the top. His body landed roughly with a thud as he rolled several times. "Booker!" She shouted as she tried to get an even footing. The creature emitted an deafening roar so loud, Elizabeth had to cover her ears as she ran to him. Suddenly, the vicious creature leaped into the sky toward Booker, readying its claws to slam him into two pieces. Elizabeth gasped as she saw it blew past her above. Fear and desperation flashed in her heart as it swooped down at him. She had no choice but to use her power. Immediately, she stopped and stretched her hand at the creature with a grabbing motion, and with intense concentration her hand glowed vividly with a silvery light. The mechanical monster's killer plunge was frozen in midair. Its heavy claws were inches away from Booker's neck as it hovered in place; its whole body glowing with a white light. With effort above what was necessary, she exerted her body and mind, humming and pulsating brightly as she focused on creature. She forcefully swung her hand down at the island and it jetted towards the buildings below. With a howl it plummeted at high speed, smashing into a stone statue of a man holding a spear, piercing its body. The force of the impact was enormously overwhelming as it leveled a nearby building with ease. Debris shot out in all directions as dust clouded the area.

Elizabeth's white aura covering her body faded rapidly as concentrations of white sparkling light started to quickly gather by her feet. Seconds later, the bits of light materialized into a grey colored gecko-like winged djinn. She looked down with pity and sympathy as it sluggishly crawled up her boot. Overly exhausted of its strength, it slowly shut its eyes and gaped its mouth as it passed away; its body laid lifelessly on her boot, its arms hugging the lace. With no time to waste, she pursed her lips regrettably and ran toward Booker, knocking her djinn off in the process. It rolled limply several times before it dematerialized into dusty matter.

"Booker!" she shouted with fear in her voice as she neared. Booker laid unconscious beneath the thundering dark sky. Elizabeth made haste to be at his side when unexpectedly, another of monstrous creature of the same nature slammed down, knocking Elizabeth off balance and sending the zeppelin plunging nose first. It roared at her as it swiped Booker's body up with one swing. "No!" she yelled as she struggle to stand. "No! Leave him alone!" It raised its other arm to the sky and launched its claw upward. She threw her hand out hoping to grab Booker's hand as the creature jumped. "Booker! N-No, Booker!" she desperately screamed. Her finger grazed the back of his hand as it escaped from her grasp. She painfully watched as his limp body was pulled up to the sky.

"No! Give me back my father! Booker!"

Her eyes followed him upwards toward a large airship above. Everything began to run in slow motion for her; time had seemed to slow to a painful crawl. She locked her eyes on a shadowy feminine figure that stood on the edge of the deck looking down at her. Elizabeth had almost mistaken it to be Evelyn had it not of been for a gun strung over her shoulder. Her eyes wetted with tears as she watched her love being yanked from her hands; her future stolen right before her very eyes. The airship turned and flew away into the lightning clouds faster than she could think of a way to rescue him. As her heart shattered into millions of pieces, she screamed, collapsing to her knees in defeat. She wailed and shrieked as the airship disappeared into the black sky.

…

The surrealness of her vivid dream quickly vanished when Elizabeth jolted up from her bed, gasping for air. Hers widened eyes were dripping with tears and her heart was pounding. She gulped and panted as she tried to reconcile reality and dream. It felt all too real. She began to wonder of it was a vision or just a dream. The frequent occurrences of nightmares seemed to have gripped Elizabeth's sanity and she questioned the validity of it all. She laid her hand on her chest, her fingers resting on the notch of her collar bones. She struggled to hold the tears back as she fought the pain of losing Booker. Remembering where they were, she nervously scanned the room for her lover. Booker was peacefully resting on a chair with his gun at ready. Like a snake prepared to strike, his finger hugging the gun's trigger.

Elizabeth threw off her blanket and rushed over to him, kneeling down between his knees as she laid her head next to his belt buckle. The scent of is his masculinity and the warmness of his body was the only barrier keeping her within the realm of sanity. She sniffled as she stared at his hand that rested next to her face. Her thoughts wandered off as her heart began simmering down. She studied the details of his hand as before felt the palm of his other hand covering her cheek. "Anna?" he mumbled as he slowly woke from his nap. "You alright?" She could only manage a smile as she dimmed her eyes. She had no interest in words as all she wanted was just his touch. Resting on his lap was what she needed to calm her down. With a deep breath, she exhaled. Her mental exhaustion was taking its toll and Booker had begun to take notice.

"You've been feeling a bit out of sorts. Wanna tell me about it?" he murmured as placed his hand on her small shoulder. "I… I had a dream," she spoke softly as she slowly sat up. "You… me, we were fighting something." As he started to stand up, he held her hands, helping her to her feet. "A-And I lost you," she continued. "Now I know what it feels like – That night when Comstock took me away from you." Her eyes traced the pattern of the wood grains in the floor as she held her head low. Reluctant to continue, she whispered, "I tried but I couldn't save you… Evelyn, whoever it was… She took you away. It felt so real."

"It's not going to come to that," he assured her as he held her shoulders, comforting her. "I promise." She leaned into his chest and wrapped her arms around him, taking in his comfort while she had it. "You made me a promise like that once," she commented. He hugged her small frame and kissed the top of her hair as he held her tight. Her fragrance was just as he remembered that day in Emporia. He did not know how she managed to smell clean and feminine even after a bit of running, but he appreciated it. The ways of the female had always eluded him. "What's your secret?" he smiled.

"To what?" she asked. "You always smell good." Elizabeth grinned, almost giggling at his simple question. "Come on. Let's make our way there. It's getting late," she said as she slowly lifted her head from his chest. Booker released her from his arms and walked over to same window where he once was several hours ago. The afternoon sun was hovering above the horizon, preparing for its descent. The once bright blue sky was now a faded greyish-blue hue. He look toward the sun that was west of his view. The glaring light was eclipsed by a large island that floated by. Curious by what he saw, Booker questioned, "That island over there. You think anyone's alive on it?" Elizabeth was preoccupied with getting the little maid up from her nap to answer him. "Your dress is a bit worn. Let's see if they have something nice for you to wear," she said as she patted the dust off Camille's dress.

He looked down at the empty street below, hoping not to find any splicers as he searched. They had slept for about an hour while they waited for a good opportunity to navigate the city safely. It was a good call. The city center had been completely abandoned, void of any signs of life and activity. Having been entirely ransacked, the foreign invaders moved on to other prospects. Dead bodies littered the road and the walkway. Decomposition had fully set in, releasing a putrid smell into immediate area. It appeared to be safe, however the journey forward would be an unpleasant one. Booker glanced over at his daughter and saw that she was busy with Camille and knew it was his cue to leave. And it just so happened that the 10th floor was the only level that had a small balcony; he opened the doors and stepped out for another cigarette break.

Before long, Elizabeth joined him, standing alongside him as they relaxed. She turned her back to the railing and leaned on it, delving into her thoughts as she attempting to decipher the puzzle that is her dreams. They both stood in silence as he smoked. With her arms crossed in concern, she finally spoke. "These dreams I keep having… It's as if something or someone is trying to tell me something."

He turned his gaze that was on the outer islands orbiting the city to his downtrodden daughter. "You might be reading too much into it," he said as leaned on the railing beside her. "I've been meaning to ask. Annabelle… I got that it had to happen. But, what you've done – you feel nothing over it?" She glanced over at Booker for a second before returning her gaze to the sky. "No… I'd do it again if I must. And that's what scares me." The soft wind that was breezing by became a more noticeable gust as it blew past them. Her djinn popped out of its form once again and sat on her shoulder, sticking its snout in the air as it carefully sniffed. It was neither detectable to the Dewitts but her djinn had picked up an odd scent, something that it was very familiar with. Ignoring her djinn, they continued their conversation of with seriousness. "I killed daisy because I thought it was for the best. Then, I killed Comstock because I wanted revenge for you. And I did again when I someone tried to take you away," she somberly noted. "What do you think will happen if I really lose you?"

"So, what… Are you afraid of God now?" he solemnly asked. She turned her troubled expression to Booker and looked deep into his eyes and answered him with sincerity.

"No… but I'm afraid of losing you."

…

On the island of New Eden, there was an elaborately built dock overlooking the city. Pillars of white marble were erected all throughout; they were meticulously detailed and carved. The stone tiles that layered the ground were beautifully made, welcoming any and every one that visited. Although it certainly was a dock, it was not meant for airships nor any means of mechanical transportation. People would travel to and from by the djinn. At certain times of the day, each island would hover close to the main city at their appointment schedule. The distance would be close enough for someone to transfer to the mainland and vice versa.

At the edge of the dock stood Evelyn, contemplating and planning her next move. With the sun behind the island, it casted a large shadow covering the city center entirely. She peered at the battered monument that managed to miraculously stand upright after the siege. With a scoff, she grinned. A figure had quietly approached her from behind but she was aware. Unbothered and not the slightest bit interested, she held her gaze.

"I did as you asked. I think it's right about time you uphold your end of the bargain," the mysterious woman insisted. Evelyn was silent as the night sky, staring into the city. Her composure was firm and her stern expression hid all emotions that she felt. "Look, I got you your airships. Even sacrificed some of my own people so they can be your… hideous monsters. Evelyn raised her head to the horizon, gazing at the distant darkening end of the ocean. With a tiny smile, she enjoyed the winds of Elysium.

"Cohen, said that this was 'spose a new home for my people. Yet here I am flattening it along with all its people."

"He's a fool," Evelyn finally spoke. "And his name is not Cohen."

"Only reason I took your offer over his is 'cause you said you would get us Columbia. Now this place is wonderful and all but Columbia is my people's home."

"You'll get Columbia, as soon as I'm finished here."

"All them innocents. Is whatever you're doing worth that price?"

"Do not attempt to rationalize with me, Anya. Is anarchy without bloodshed? Is your revolution pure? The lives of the innocent here are but a speckle in comparison to the future. Especially when nothing is absolute…"

"Not sure I get where you're comin' from."

"You don't need to… The world will end by fire. That is the very thing I am trying to prevent," Evelyn said as she turned and walked away. Anya offered no further remarks and folded her arms as she stood in silence, pondering of the events that took place. The destruction, the chaos, and the meaningless loss of life; she wondered if it was all worth it. Escaping the complete destruction of Paris with her troops was difficult enough on its own. Agreeing to an arrangement that goes against her own personal principles was a matter than deeply troubled her; it was contradictory to her revolution and what they believed in and fought for.

The ground where she stood rumbled and shook while a large and heavily armed zeppelin zoomed past her from above as it headed for the main city. Gusts of wind blew by Anya as she contemplated of her actions and her part in Evelyn's plan.

"Bring me Booker Dewitt," Evelyn shouted from far away.

Anya turned and glanced at Evelyn as she kept walking. Uncertainty plagued her heart. Everything that was done, was done under the premise of a better future for all. She narrowed her eyes at the disappearing figure and returned her gaze at the city ahead. Determined to provide better lives for her people, she decided the ends justified the means, so long as the promised future was ahead.

The ground right beside her feet quaked violently when a mechanical looking beast slammed down from above, cracking and breaking the stone tiles as it forcefully landed. The shockwave jetted past Anya, shaking her clothes but she stood in complete stillness. Interestingly, the beast offered its claws as platform to stand and spoke with a coarse and harsh voice, "Is it time?"

"Just about…" she replied as she placed her hand on the massive metal claw, preparing to climb it. Steady gusts of wind blew down on them as they waited. Up above them was another zeppelin that hovered closely, waiting for them to board before it disembarked.

…

Meanwhile, Booker and Elizabeth had reached the entrance of a considerably large and spacious courtyard that seemed to stretch a couple hundred meters in length in all directions. In the center was a colossal sized historically themed structure that sat on top of a hill that housed several flights of steps, each being at least 50. Camille gaped her mouth in awe as she looked at the massive building, studying its intricate details. At the front face of the building, there stood tall and imposing looking pillars of carved granite, each being three meters in diameter. The pillars supported a roof carved from limestone that depicted the djinn and its people celebrating it. It was a stunning tribute to the Greek architectural style.

They walked underneath a tall archway at the entrance and further into the courtyard for several minutes until finally meeting a magnificently designed fountain that somehow remained untouched during the siege. Interestingly enough, it was still functional, spewing out water from several ports of the center statue. Camille gawked at the artwork displayed but the Dewitts had no interest in the stone representation of the Goddess and pressed forward. Their trek unnecessarily was long. The time it took to arrive at the foot of the steps was more than they anticipated. There, they were greeted with the sheer size and number of steps they must accomplish before they arrive at the top. From far away, it had already looked intimidating but now that they are at bottommost step, the task seemed nigh impossible. Nevertheless, Booker took the first step as Elizabeth followed shortly thereafter "And I thought Andrew Ryan was a fanatic with architectural designs," said Elizabeth. "Who?" he asked.

When the have reached the third plateau signaling the ¾ marker point, the ground beneath them vibrated, growing in intensity as the seconds passed. They froze where they stood and anxiously looked around for the cause of the disturbance. There were no airships, no zeppelins nearby. The courtyard beneath was also empty. Booker scrunched his face, preparing for combat for he knew what this meant. "Anna?" he blurted. She quickly scanned the area for anything unusual but failed to find an enemy or even something odd out of place. "This could only spell trouble," he continued. Unexpectedly, an incredibly deafening boom erupted from street just outside the courtyard. Booker covered Camille and Elizabeth as they ducked down, bracing themselves. The earth below quaked violently. A shockwave followed immediately after, shattering windows of nearby buildings and disintegrating stone. The immense blast easily knocked them down, sending them rolling along the stone tiles. They screamed as it all happened. Luckily they were just far enough to not sustain any injury. However, A forceful gust of wind soon rushed past them blowing dirt in all directions. As they attempted to recover their footing, their eyes widened at the unbelievable spectacle. A large portion of a skyscraper from another time and location had warped to Elysium. The tremor continued as they struggled to stand. "You've gotta kidding me!" Booker shouted, trying to cover his face from the typhoon like winds. "It's happening again! Just like Paris!" Elizabeth added as she protected Camille, holding her close to her chest. "This can't be good!" she yelled.

A rhythmic stomping was heard approaching them from below. Booker had picked up on the unusual sound and looked peered downwards. He squinted, trying to make out what it was that was charging past the archway. The dust had proved extremely difficult to see through but fortunately, Booker was able to spot it as it now dashed through the courtyard.

Alarmed and frightened by what he saw, he yelled, "Wh… The hell is that thing!?"

"What?!" Elizabeth shouted back as she turned to see what he was yelling about. She immediately flashed open her eyes and gasped. "Oh my god! Booker run! Right now, run!"

"Jesus!" he screamed, as he frantically grabbed Elizabeth's wrist and ran. Camille shrieked when she finally noticed what was charging at them. A soul piercing bellow came from below and the stomping became louder as it plowed up the steps. Bloodlust could be heard in its animalistic roar. With haste not seen before, they bolted upwards without looking back. They had made it half way up the last set of steps before the monstrous beast was finally in plain sight. A morbidly disgusting creature that has mutated beyond recognition. Elizabeth had encountered this beast once before in Rapture and it almost ended her life prematurely. It roared excitedly as it was closing the gap between them, smashing and destroying the marble steps as it charged.

Once they have finally made to the entrance above, they headed straight for the overly large double doors. Booker was the first one in followed by Camille and Elizabeth. Camille lost her balance, tripping and falling to the floor. "Anna, the door!" he urged as he threw his body against the tremendously heavy door. The Dewitts pushed with all their strength and fortunately they slam it shut in time. Clicking and mechanical latches being locked could be heard when the closed it. A booming thud accompanied the sound of feverish slashing and roaring. "I-I don't understand. How did it follow me here?!" she gasped and panted.

"What the hell was that thing?!" Booker loudly sputtered.

"I don't know. I…" she gulped. "It must have fallen out of the building that appeared here. I think it followed my scent."

Camille was shivering in terror as she tried her hardest not to lose her composure. Her breathing was rapid and shallow. Elizabeth quickly rushed over to Camille to comfort her. "Hey… hey…" she shushed.

"Look, I don't know what that damn thing was and I sure as hell ain't gonna stick around to find out. C'mon let's go."

"Booker, just give her a minute," she said as she gestured him to wait.

"Are you kidding me? That thing's gonna rip open that door any minute."

"No, it won't," she assured him as she comforted Camille. "It's a pressurized triple barred automatic locking system. Not even a battering ram could open that."

He sighed as he reluctantly yielded. Eventually, the banging and mashing of the door stopped. Booker bent a knee next to Camille and checked her status. The experience was jarring for her but it appeared that she was recovering. Her skin had returned to its original color from a pale white. "It's gone awfully quiet," he pointed out as he stood to his feet, looking around. "No more sounds from whatever that thing was."

"And no more, strange… tears. I don't even know what to call them. Paris was much worse," said Elizabeth. After she carefully helped the maid stand, her eyes began to wander from one important detail in her surroundings to the next.

"No doubt," he muttered.

"And what's worse, we've seem to stumble down memory lane. Have a look around," said Elizabeth as she pointed to the exhibits on display.

"Columbia…" they both uttered.

…

Flying high in sky, Anya stood out on the deck of one of her zeppelins while holding on to a steel cable. She had witnessed the event from not too far away. From her view, not only did a foreign building warp in, destroying the immediate area, it leveled most of the memorial district was as well. "Good god almighty…" she murmured as she watched it all happen from above.


End file.
